Nancy’s POV

We pull into the parking lot of a restaurant whose name I can’t pronounce. It might be French, but I’m not sure. This place looks fancier than that Italian place Ronnie likes to take me to, but surprisingly this place doesn’t have valet parking.

The building looks magnificent, with black-painted brick and rose bushes surrounding the building. The front doors have huge stained-glass windows with different shades of blue and green. The windows run ...