“Over here,” Evie called from underneath the pink awning that covered the restaurant’s entrance.
“This is… uh… colorful,” Bryson said as he approachedher. He gestured to the mural featuring three fluorescent flamingos painted on the building’s outside wall.
“Flamingo A-Go-Go is one of the most pet-friendly restaurants in the city,” Evie said. “They even have dog entrées on the menu. I thought it was the perfect spot for these two to meet.”
Bella and Waffles had already begun the ceremonial first-meet butt sniff. Waffles moved from Bella’s rear to her left ear, then to her front paws. Evie held her breath as Bella repeated the paw sniff, then a quick sizing up of Waffles’s junk, before she went to sit at Bryson’s feet.
No growls. No yapping. No teeth baring.
Evie released her breath. “Thank God.”
“Glad that’s done,” Bryson said at the same time, letting out a huge sigh.
“Were you nervous they wouldn’t get along too?”
“Bella can be temperamental,” Bryson said, wrapping the end of her leash more securely around his hand. “But it looks as if your dog passed the sniff test, pun very much intended.”
Evie rolled her eyes. “Still with the stale jokes.”
“I am nothing if not consistent.” His grin lit up his entire face.
Two women, each carrying the newest Telfar bag, strolled past them, their gazes locked on Bryson.
Evie wanted to tell them to back the hell off, then remembered this was not a date and Bryson was not her man. She could not blameanyone for looking. He was gorgeous. Always had been.
“What is he, by the way?” Bryson asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was the subject of several fantasies right now. “He looks like a pug and beagle, with a bit of something else.”
He held the door open so she and Waffles could walk in ahead of him.
“I’ve decided he has a little rat terrier in him but won’t be sure until his DNA test comes back,” Evie said.
“Interesting combo.”
“It gives him personality,” she said. “And before you ask, yes, he runs the house, even though I’ve only had him for a week.”
The restaurant’s interior was as cheerfully flamboyant as the exterior. Because the dreaded humidity New Orleans was known for hadn’t made an appearance yet, Evie requested patio seating. The hostess guided them outside to a table next to a fountain with pink flamingo metal sculptures.
Almost immediately, another woman stepped up to the table with two waters, announcing herself as their server. Evie ordered chicken, rice, and black bean dinners for the dogs and loaded French fries for her and Bryson to share.
“We must get the shrimp,” she said. “They’re fried and then drenched in this amazing sauce that has macadamia nuts. It’s ridiculously good.”
Evie looked over to find Bryson grinning at her after the server walked away with their orders.
“What?” she said.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“No, not nothing,” she said. “What is it?”
“It’s just that when I think of home, I don’t think French fries and macadamia shrimp.”
“Hey, you can get red beans and rice and shrimp étouffée whenever your little heart desires it, but you won’t get that when you’re out with me. I’ve eaten those dishes my entire life. I’m good.”
His forehead creased in confusion. “So what do you eat?”
“Everything else,” Evie said. “There’s a new restaurant representing another culture opening every week. We’ll have to go to my favorite Thai place soon. It’s even better than the one everyone used to rave about near LSU. Oh, and there’s this Haitian restaurant in Tremé that is unbelievable.”
“It sounds like I have some good meals to look forward to,” Bryson said. “Thanks for the invite.”
