He couldn’t believe his luck when he walked up to the table and saw the caramel-skinned beauty he’d bumped into near the door. Her friends protested when they told them they planned to leave, but in the end, they offered to meet up later. When they stepped out of Avery’s Juke Joint, the cool breeze of late spring whispered over them and stirred the naturally curly tendrils of her shoulder-length hair. Cars drove by at a slow crawl. Retail stores, condominium high-rises, and restaurants lined either side of the street. Men and women dressed in their weekend best passed by on the sidewalk. “This way,” Roarke said. “How do you know about this place?” “Just because I live in Athens doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on in the big city,” he joked. He directed her down a side street toward the open door of Tito’s Lounge. “The drive’s not bad, so I come to Atlanta every so often to take a break, but I don’t get to do it much.” What an understatement. He’d kept a busy schedule for as long as he could remember.
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