Chapter 70
Nate backed a fairly new-looking Ford Edge out of the garage, and we got into the backseat while the garage door was still closing.
“I like the location of your house,” I said. “It’s very private up here.”
“Yeah,” Quentin said. “Not quite as open as Tom and Noah’s place, and very private. I give Nate full marks for spotting the potential of this parcel.”
“How long have you guys been together?” Dani said.
“A few years,” Quentin said. “You?”
“Marco and I met when I was eighteen and he was twenty,” Dani said. “We’ll be celebrating a twenty-fifth anniversary in a year or so.”
“Wow!” Nate said. “That’s a long time to be with one person. A very long time.”
“It seems only yesterday,” I said.
“That was the right thing to say,” Dani said.
The conversation ebbed and flowed as we headed toward Waynesville, and Nate pulled into a parking lot adjacent to a restaurant called The Sweet Onion.
“I assume this is the place,” I said.