Sugar peered through the windshield, raising an eyebrow as she took in the restaurant’s appearance. The Salty Marine, with its heavily borrowed “old” fishing shack vibe, sat right beside the river, complete with its own dock.

The two women exited the car, and Sugar followed her mother into the restaurant with a hint of apprehension. Inside, it was dimly lit, with strings of lights lazily woven into webs overhead. To their left was a fully stocked bar, and to the right, a typical dining area. Farther ahead, two pool tables sat unused in a billiard room.

The place smelled like beer and fried food.

And it was completely devoid of patrons.

“Hey, Georgie,” an old bartender greeted with a cheeky smile, wiping down the bar counter.

“Hey, Gizzard,” Georgette replied cheerfully.

Sugar fought the urge to wrinkle her nose at the bartender’s name. Who in the world would want to be nicknamed that? And what did he do to earn it?

“Who’s that with you?” Gizzard asked, peering at Sugar with clear interest.

“Gizzard, this is my eldest daughter, Sugar,” Georgette introduced, gesturing to her.

He flashed a toothy grin. “That’s a mighty big name to live up to. Are you as sweet as your name says?”

“It’s a lifelong pursuit,” Sugar replied with a weak smile, “but I’m not quite there yet.”

He chuckled heartily at her response.

“Is the original Salty Marine here?” her mother asked, glancing around.

“He’s somewhere back there. I’ll let him know you’re here.” Gizzard nodded toward the kitchen entrance.

Then he added teasingly, “Honestly, I think he’s got a bit of a crush on you, Georgie. He doesn’t give just anyone free meals and alcohol.”

A flattered Georgette giggled, wagging a finger at him. “You’re something else, you know that?”

The bartender winked at her before heading toward the kitchen doors. “You know you love it, darling. Park yourselves at a table, and I’ll bring some draft beers your way. On the house.”

“You really know how to spoil a girl, Gizzard,” Georgette said.

“A girl you are not, Georgie. You’re every bit a lady and more,” he called as he disappeared through the kitchen doors.

“Let’s go get ourselves a seat,” Georgette said, leading the way to a booth, with Sugar trailing behind.

Then, her mother gestured at the restaurant’s decor. “This place is really something, isn’t it?”

Sugar glanced around, unimpressed.

“It’s,” she paused, clearing her throat, “something alright.”

Georgette pursed her lips, looking at her daughter with mild disappointment. “Don’t judge a book by its cover. It’s a little rough around the edges, but the people are great, and the food is downright damn good.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Mama,” Sugar replied.

Georgette regarded Sugar from across the table for a moment, then folded her hands like a businesswoman about to make a proposition. “Let’s talk about more important matters. You need to get back into the dating game, Magnolia.”

“Why are you, Roc, and Ettie always nagging me about finding a man?” Sugar asked, tilting her head. “I don’t need one to make me happy.”

“Look, I know Lance burned you bad, but he was a boy pretending to be a man. You need a good man. A real man. Someone who can treat you like you deserve to be treated, and that someone is out there waiting for both your worlds to collide,” Georgette said. “When that happens, you won’t know what hit you.”

Sugar thought about her mother’s words for a moment. “Mama, I appreciate the advice, but I know what’s best for me.”

Georgette frowned. “You’re getting to be hardheaded, Magnolia.”

“Two draft beers for two lovely ladies,” Gizzard announced with a grin as he approached the table, placing two mugs filled with amber liquid topped with crisp white foam. Sugar preferred wine and cocktails, but she immediately picked up the mug and took a deep sip, giving herself something to do.

Tucked under his arm were two menus, which he handed to them.

Her mother glanced at the menu for only a few seconds before handing it back. “I’ll take my usual.”

Gizzard nodded.

“You got it, Georgie,” he said before turning to Sugar. “What would you like, darling?”

“Um,” Sugar hummed as she scanned the Louisiana cuisine-filled menu. Every option sounded delicious, and the descriptions made her mouth water. “I’ll take the fried catfish with lobster mac and cheese and filthy green beans.”

“You won’t be disappointed. I’ll put both your orders in, but just so you know, I’ve got to leave for a doctor’s appointment,” he said with another cheeky smile.

Georgette pouted. “Aw, okay. It was good seeing you, Gizzard.”

“Likewise, Georgie,” Gizzard replied with a wink. “Chef should be out here any moment, though.”

Then, the older man walked away.

Sugar and her mother soon slipped into a light conversation about the various activities Georgette would do on the cruise. She thanked the high heavens that she and her nonexistent love life were no longer under her mother’s microscope.

As Sugar brought the beer to her lips again and, in mid-gulp, heard a familiar, smooth, southern-accented voice:

“You rang for me, Mrs. Hartwell?”

Her eyes widened as she cut her attention to the man approaching their table. She immediately choked on her beer. Setting the mug down, she coughed, clasping a hand to her chest as she struggled through the fit.

“You alright, Maggie?” Georgette asked in concern.

“Mm hm,” Sugar hummed, nodding vigorously once the coughing died down. She reached for her beer again and took another deep gulp to swallow down the bitter taste of shock.

“I tend to have that effect on people,” the man said, which provoked Georgette to cackle.

“Chef, this is my daughter Magnolia,” Georgette introduced, gesturing her hand to Sugar, who was still drinking her beer and avoiding his eyes at all costs.

“What a fittin’ name,” Chef replied with a grin. “Magnolias are my favorite flower. My grandparents have magnolia trees on their land back home. Spent many a summer day up under them as a boy.”

Georgette smiled warmly. “That seems like a real nice childhood.”

“It had its ups and downs, but I wouldn’t change it for the world,” he paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “You enjoyin’ that beer?”

Sugar pretended not to hear him.

“Maggie,” Georgette said sweetly, though there was an underlying edge to her tone that only a daughter could detect. “Chef asked you a question.”

“Hm?” Sugar feigned surprise, acting as if she hadn’t heard. She licked her lips and placed the beer mug on the table, finally mustering the courage to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch what you said.”

His laugh lines crinkled in the same way they did that fated night she gently cleaned the blood off his face. There was no doubt in her mind that he was amused at this current predicament and she couldn’t for the life of her understand why.

After that phone call, they weren’t ever supposed to cross paths again. After all, Sugar rejected him and insulted him in the same breath.

Did God hate her?

Did she somehow die without realizing it and somehow end up in her own personal hell?

“I asked if you were enjoyin’ the beer?”

“It’s alright,” she said, tracing her finger around the mug’s rim. “I’m not really a beer gal, though.”

He tilted his head, slipping his hands into his jeans’ front pockets. “Might I ask what kind of gal you are, then?”

She didn’t miss the suggestive tone in that loaded question.

Chef’s voice vibrated through her, a warm tingle spreading across her skin.

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