My truck has electric in the back so I plug in Christmas lights and string them along the back. I know Mae can see me doing all of this, but I still hope she likes it when she gets out.
I hop down and look at my handiwork. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
Opening the passenger door, I hold out my hand. “Ready?” I ask her.
She nods and takes it.
Keeping her hand in mine, I bring her around to the truck bed.
She gasps and looks at me. “This is so cute.”
“I’m glad you like it. You can step up right there, I’ll help you,” I tell her, pointing to the step-up bumper. My truck sits up higher, so it’s a little harder. I hold her hand as she grabs the side of the bed to get up on the gate. Once she’s up, I jump in behind her.
“So I got us dinner from Bradford Diner, and I brought beer, wine, and water, since I didn’t know what you liked.”
Mae sits down and leans against one of the large pillows I took from my bed.
She’s silent, and I worry maybe this wasn’t the right move. Maybe I should have stuck to dinner and dancing at Perry’s.
“If you don’t like it, we can go somewhere else,” I suggest. I have time. I know Naomi is having fun with June and Gracie.
“No, no, it’s wonderful. I … I don’t think anyone has ever gone to this much trouble for a date before,” she says, her voice quiet.
I sit down next to her, leaving a respectful, but nottoorespectful, space between us. “I’m glad I could be the first.”
She looks around, and I give her a minute by unloading the cooler.
“I don’t know if you’ve been to the diner yet, but they have great food. I got us the fried chicken because it’s amazing, and the burger. Options are good.”
Mae smiles. “Honestly, I’d go for both.”
“I like that,” I tell her. The soft glow of the setting sun and Christmas lights makes her look almost ethereal, like one of Naomi’s princesses. Her long, curly black hair is begging for me to wrap one of the corkscrews around my finger, but I keep my hands to myself.
Grabbing the tray, I set it to the side of us and put the containers on it, handing her silverware and a napkin. “Would you like wine, beer, or water?”
“I’d love some wine,” she says.
I grab a plastic cup and pour some in it, handing it to her while I grab a beer for myself.
Popping the top off the stubby, I hold it up. “To our first date.”
Mae clips her cup against my beer bottle. “Cheers,” she says, and takes a long sip.
“So, you said you’re a forensic accountant. I know what accounting is, but not the forensic part.”
Mae chews and takes a sip of her wine. “So I do both normal accounting and forensic. My firm handles a lot of large corporations and businesses, so the forensic part means I investigate and dig. I look for things like fraud or strange discrepancies.”
“So if someone was laundering money for the mob?” I ask her.
She laughs and nods. “Yes, exactly like that. I haven’t been on a case with the mob, but my firm has. You’d be amazed how easy it is to wash money through a laundromat.”
I chuckle. “Sounds like easy money.”
“Not if you’re caught,” she volleys back.
I chuckle. “So, tell me about your weirdest case.”
Mae tilts her head, thinking as she takes another bite of fried chicken. Then her eyes light up and she wipes her hands.
