Without asking, Sam drove to the same place they’d dined on their first date.He liked the place because it sat on a low hill, right next to the foamy wash of the ocean and because it reminded him of happier times with Christie. The boardwalk passed its front door and beachgoers mingled with diners. The aroma of cinnamon rolls, cooked fresh and served hot by a beach vendor, teased their appetites as they climbed the outdoor staircase to the glass front doors.Inside, the lounge coupled the breathtaking view with subdued intimacy. Deep, barrel-shaped chairs nuzzled plump love seats and tiny smoked-glass cocktail tables. The muted lights illuminated only the important, letting the dazzling vista of waves crashing against the coast dominate the room.A waitress wearing a Spandex bodysuit and black wraparound skirt took their drink orders, informing them that a table would be ready in thirty minutes.“I didn’t expect it to be so crowded,” Sam said.“That’s okay. I could use a drink before dinner.”Finding a table pushed in a corner, they settled back to sip their drinks, cloaking themselves in the muted roar of the surf.“Do you remember the first time I brought you here?”
