Chapter11
She wasoverdressed.
Anika sat in the car, waiting for the valet, staring down at her tan, ankle-length fitted skirt, her right leg peeking through the split on the side. Both arms were bare in the cream one-shoulder top she’d pairedwithit.
Too late to go home and change now. Besides, she’d tried on three different outfits before settling on this one, rushed out of the house so she wouldn’t keep Reed waiting, and still she wasrunninglate.
The valet approached and she exited the vehicle and handed overherkey.
Paschal’s Restaurant was one of her favorite places to eat. Not only did they serve delicious food, but she had fond memories of eating lunch after church with her parents, brothers, and grandmother, discussing the morning’s sermon or having spirited but good-natured arguments. And it wasn’t unusual for her father, God rest his soul, to strike up a conversation with a nearby table and drag both parties into a political or religiousdebate.
Anika scanned the restaurant in search of Reed as she waited her turn behind a small group at the hostess stand. The gentle hum of well-dressed patrons, their quiet discussions and soft laughter filled the room. Male and female servers deftly maneuvered around, carrying trays of colorful drinks and steaming plates ofsoulfood.
After the group before her had been escorted to a table, Anika stepped up. “Hi, I’m meeting someone here.” She peered into the dining room. “I don’t think he’s hereyet,but—”
A warm hand settled at the base of her spine, and instinctively, Anika inhaled sharply. The scent of citrus and pine filled her nostrils. She should step away, but the sensation of his touch overtook her entire body, heating her from head to toe and holding her inplace.
“Hey, there,”Reedsaid.
He flashed a smile, all charm and sizzle, temporarily rendering Anika unable to speak, unable to breathe, unable to function like a normal human being. As was his habit, he’d forgone a tie, choosing to wear a dark jacket over a crisp white shirt with darkpants.
“You made it,”shesaid.
“Sorry I’m late. Brielle thought it would be funny to hide my shoes. Tickling and threatening didn’t work to convince her to tell me wheretheywere.”
“What finallyworked?”
“Begging.”
Anika laughed, albeit shakily, still a bit overwhelmed by his presence. “It’s clear who has the control in thathouse.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt. And sheknowsit.”
The hostess escorted them to a booth near the back wall. As they sat down, Reed surveyed the loft-style interior, consisting of exposed pipes in the high ceilings, with one wall offering a view of the outdoors through large windows that looked out onto the street. Yellow sconces on the columns projected soft lighting to the interior and cast shadows on the black and white photos of Civil Rights leaders hung on the exposed brickwalls.
“I’ve never eaten here, but I vaguely remember hearing about thisrestaurant.”
“So you don’t know its history?” Anikaasked.
“No, I don’t,” Reedadmitted.
Excited to share her limited knowledge, Anika set down the menu. “Paschal’s was founded in 1947 by brothers Robert and James Paschal. My grandmother told me they started out selling sandwiches and sodas and the business grew into what you see today. They’re a black-owned restaurant that was financed by a black-owned bank and insured by a black-owned insurance company. My grandmother said it wasn’t unusual to see civil rights leaders eating in therestaurant.”
“Likewho?”
Anika pointed at the wall above them, where hung a photo of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and one of Joseph E. Lowery receiving the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Obama. “Dr. King, Representative John Lewis, Ralph David Abernathy, Joseph Lowery—anyofthem.”
“Wow.”
Anika nodded. She’d loved hearing the stories her grandmother recounted and was amazed at how African-Americans managed to flourish during times of such adversity. “Rumor has it, Dr. King loved thevegetablesoup.”
“Have youtriedit?”
“Yes, and I agree.It’sgood.”
“What else is good?” Reed skimmedthemenu.
“My favorites are the catfish and fried chicken. And you can’t go wrong with the macaroni and cheese—oh, and the collard greens. Or the yams. Any of the dishes.” Her mouth watered thinking about thechoices.
