restaurant, she couldnât pass up the opportunity to try it out. Her first inclination was to order a salad, but she squashed the idea. She was on vacation. Instead, she ordered the restaurantâs famous fried chicken and a side order of broccoli.
âAnd for you?â the server asked Austin, batting her fake eyelashes. Janna rolled her eyes and glanced away before she said something she would later regret.
âIâll have the catfish entrée and a glass of water.â
âAll right, Iâll get that water out to you right away and your meals will be out shortly.â
âSo does that happen often?â Janna asked.
âWhat?â
âServers who practically sit in your lap while trying to take your order.â
Austin shook his head and laughed. âNo. I can honestly say that doesnât often happen, probably because I rarely eat at restaurants. Normally I cook or order carryout.â
He had always carried himself as if he were much older than his years. They were only a year apart in age, but in high school they were two years apart due to him skipping fifth grade. Cooking was one of his favorite pastimes. He used to prepare elaborate meals even as a teen. He had often told her that he liked cooking for her and had vowed to take care of her once they married.
Janna sipped from her glass of wine, wondering where to start in regard to their conversation. On the car ride over, small talk flowed between them, but neither had broached the topic that needed to be discussed.
âWhyâd you leave me without a word or without saying goodbye? No note. No call. Nothing.â
Well, so much for not knowing where to start , Janna thought. She sighed and set her wineglass down on the table, placing her hands in her lap. When she looked up at Austin, his face was expressionless, but his dark eyes bored into her.
âAustin...everything happened so quickly. I received a call from a modeling agency, offering the opportunity of a lifetime if I agreed to leave for Milan immediately. You and your family were on that two-week cruise to Hawaii and I couldnât reach you by telephone, which is why I sent you the letter.â
He leaned forward. âWhat letter?â
A sense of dread crawled up Jannaâs back. âWhat do you mean, what letter? I wrote you the day I left, telling you what happened and that I would call you as soon as I could.â
âJanna, I never received a letter or a telephone call.â
âI swear to you that I mailed it on my way to the airport. I donât understand how you didnât get it. As for the phone call... I tried, but your number was disconnected and I later found out you and your family had moved.â
âWe didnât move to Atlanta until two months after you left.â
âI... I.â Janna glanced down and toyed with the black cloth napkin in her lap. She only had one shot to clear the air between them. Austin mightâve been one of the most patient people she knew, but he hated lies, or as she often referred to them, half truths. âWhen I didnât hear from you after sending you the letter, I assumed you didnât want anything to do with me. A few months went by before I swallowed my pride and decided to take my chances and call you.â
Within seconds, his calm demeanor changed, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. He gripped the side of the table as if trying to rein in his temper.
Before he could speak, the server returned to their table with their meals.
Jannaâs stomach churned with anxiety. Sheâd realized the conversation wouldnât be easy, but it was much harder than she had expected. She had never thought about the fact that he might not have received the letter. When sheâd told her family that she hadnât heard from Austin, Mama Adel said that it was probably for the best and that she should focus on her career.
âIs there anything else I can get you?â
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