Chapter Five
The Spice House was probably the last restaurant I’d think of for a seductive date with Savannah. With the clanking china and silverware, the uproar of laughter, and the festive steamy atmosphere of a bawdy fish house, it was next to impossible to relate to another human being over the noise. To my shock however, my date with Savannah in that place changed all my theories about creating a sexually romantic mood.
We met in the entry of the establishment where there was a crowd of people waiting in line for the maitre’d to seat them. Unceremoniously hustled to our seats by a frenetic hostess dressed in the uniform black skirt and white blouse, we found ourselves in choice seats by the window overlooking the wharf. Savannah deliberately took the seat in our booth with her
