"What happened to them?" Luke asked, breaking me from my thoughts.
"My mother was closing late one night. There was a charity ball that weekend and most of the locals shopped there, so she had been pretty busy all evening. I was in Panama City with some of my girl- friends for spring break, so she was alone. A group of men were later seen leaving the store on foot. She had been shot and killed. The police wrote it off as a robbery, but my father knew better. Most of her customers used a charge account and only a small amount of money was taken. After that, my father spent weeks trying to solve the mystery. He kept saying that it was an inside job. I never knew what that meant and I never asked because he had distanced himself completely from me. Six months later he was found dead in his office. The autopsy revealed it was the result from a brain aneurism, but I think it was a broken heart."
Luke reached over, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his lips. He didn't say anything; he just held my hand and let me cry. I had never opened up to anyone like this before. I knew in that moment, that I felt something for this man.
"After that I moved to Mississippi to live with my grandmother in Collins. I left everything; my friends, my life, my hopes and dreams. I was seventeen and I had nothing. My grandmother tried as hard as she could to raise me, but at only nineteen, I lost her too. So, I got my shit together, went to college, got a degree in business, and took after my father investing in real estate. That's it. Now you know more about me than anyone I’ve met," I said, my tears subsided and my impassive face back intact.
"I want to know everything about you. I have somewhere I have to be tonight. I would love it if you would join me," he said, looking at me and making my heart melt.
"I'd love to, but you have to feed me first," I said smiling at him.
He laughed, picking my hand up and kissing my fingers once again, "For you miss Dallas, anything."
We pulled up outside a run-down building just off the highway. The outside was painted blue with Christmas lights strung from one end to the other, even though it was September. Beer signs covered the front, helping to hide the wear and tear of the structure. A huge sign stretched across the top giving the place the name, Donnelley’s.
“Don’t judge the quality by the outside. This place has the best steak around,” Luke stated, pulling the truck up to the front door.
“I don’t have any shoes,” I said, even though by the looks of this place they were not rendered necessary. I was hoping my lack of proper attire would be enough to convince him of a drive thru rather than the outlandish place he had brought me too.
“Do you really think I would take you looking the way you do in public? I ordered out,” he said winking at me and letting me know that he was joking. I sighed in relief, which must have been obvious because he laughed as he got out of the truck and walked inside giving me a view of his great ass.
Bored, I turned the volume up on the radio to hear it tuned to a country station. Funny, I placed him in a hard rock genre, definitely not country. Not only was it country, but it was classic country. I often listened to that myself. Merle Haggard was singing about the good times being over and I sang along with him word for word. My concert was ended when Luke suddenly appeared carrying a large brown sack that smelled so good it made my mouth water.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I just ordered you what I always get. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
I had not realized until that point how hungry I was. It took a tremendous amount of will power to keep me from digging in like a savage.
“Well it smells wonderful,” I said smiling. “So, where do you live babe? I figured we could take this picnic to your place. Unless you have a boyfriend you’re hiding there,” he said without making eye contact.
“The only man in my life goes by the name of Neo. He’s a seven year old black lab who loves me unconditionally no matter what,” I replied. “And to answer your other question, I live on the Flemming Plantation. It’s off of highway ninety-eight.”
“Are you serious?” he asked, looking at me like I had lost my mind.
“Yes I’m serious and don’t go telling me that I’m crazy.” I knew what it must look like. After the massacre of 1993 where all four family members were brutally murdered by the wife’s secret lover, the plantation was put on the market, but never sold. A small real-estate company bought the plantation in hopes of selling it off piece by piece. They were only able to sell the acreage that surrounded it leaving the ten gated acres along with the house and barn, where the family was found dead, to be overgrown and neglected. I bought out the company about two years ago and have since restored the magnificent house to its former glory.