Charlotte Sanguinite POV:
I didn’t choose a restaurant per se.
It’s an open-air BBQ eatery near the edge of the woods. The place is decked out with bright fairy lights, mismatched but comfortable, colorful chairs, and several barbecue pits around which the chairs are gathered.
“What is this place?” Robert looked delighted.
“It’s a DIY barbecue spot,” I tell him, enjoying the stunned look on his face. I found it online. We buy the marinated meat from over there.”
I point to a long stall that has stacks and stacks of iceboxes.
“They have all kinds of meat, and then we barbecue it ourselves. Everything is self-serving except for drinks. A couple of college students started this venture, and it’s slowly taking off. The reviews are very good.”
I walked over to the long stall that had the
