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The hostess tapped her finger against her computer screen, her eyes darting back to mine with a quiet, professional sympathy.
“Ah, yes. Party of five,” she said, her voice dropping to a softer tone as she looked at the empty space behind me. “The rest of your group is already seated.”
She picked up two menus and stepped out from behind the podium, gesturing toward the corridor that led to the main dining room.
“Is there anyone else joining you?” she asked, looking toward the glass doors behind me where the streetlights were just turning on.
“My husband is parking the car,” I said, the lie slipping out before I could think, my hand smoothing the green silk over my thigh.
She nodded, her eyes lingering on my dress for a fraction of a second, her face neutral.
