CHAPTER 6
Zoey entered the restaurant and looked around. The place was teeming with people, most sitting at tables with hardly a spare seat—not exactly what she’d expected on a Sunday night. Her eyes began to scan the restaurant, searching for the clue Miss Prissy had told her to look for.
“Good evening, ma’am,” a voice said. Zoey looked up to see a stocky waiter in an apron over a white shirt and black pants standing in front of her. “Welcome to Miss Prissy’s Restaurant,” he said. “Would you like a table?”
“No, thank you. I’m meeting someone here.” Her eyes had spotted the vase of red roses in a table set apart toward the back. Bingo! There was a man already seated there with his head bent as if reading something. His profile looked familiar, though she couldn’t see his face. A cowboy
