Page 27 of Dissolving Prejudice

“You’d be surprised.” My lips curved up while thinking back on my last class and the nonsense that disrupted it. “Anyway, I better go, or I’ll be late.”

“Where are you going all dolled up, and can I join?” he asked while looking at me with his ocean eyes.

Since the day he came to visit me at the hospital after my attack, Jordan had showered me with nothing but love and kindness. I was grateful for him being in my life, and yet, instead of answering his question with the truth that I knew would hurt him, I flashed him a big smile.

“A few friends from work are going to a fashion show, which I know you hate.” I walked toward him and placed my hands on his wide shoulders. “That’s why I didn’t invite you, but don’t worry.” I leaned forward and pressed our lips together in a short kiss. “I’ll be back home quickly.”

Cupping the back of my head, he pulled me into another kiss, which was more intrusive, with how he slipped his tongue inside my mouth and took a good taste before letting me go.

“I’ll stay awake and wait.”

“Good.”

“You’re late,” Camilo said as I tossed my Bugatti’s key to the valet and strolled up the stairs leading to the restaurant.

“I’m never late. You’re just early.”

He snorted, then ran before me to reach the door first and open it for me.

“After you,” he offered, and I checked him out real quick before walking inside.

He looked nice, with a tight wool shirt and baggy jeans that sat low on his hips.

“I have a reservation for two, under the name—”

“Rogers,” the host said with a polite smile on his face—a smile I could see right through. A smile of recognition. And the problem with recognition was that with it came a sickening curiosity to know more about my scandalous life.

Sometimes, I wished nobody knew who I was.

“Shay-Lee?” Camilo snapped my attention, and I realized the host was waiting to take us to our table.

“I hope you’ll love this restaurant,” I told Camilo as we followed the host into a long, dark hall. “It’s one of the best in the country. They make everything here. Even raise their own cows.”

“Cows?” Camilo asked just as we stopped in front of a big door.

“Yeah. For their steaks.” I smiled right before the host pushed the door open, and we entered the main room. Uncooked steaks were hung on hooks on top of the open kitchen, and so were other cutlets and cuts of meat that would shame no carnivores. Glancing at Camilo, I smiled with satisfaction at the horrid look on his paling face as he glared at the fire coming from the open grill, where a few pounds of meat were currently cooking.

Got you, motherfucker.

The host then led us through the fuss of the restaurant into our private room. After all, I needed much privacy for this unwanted dinner.

“Didn’t I mention this is the best steak house in the city?” I asked after we sat down at our table, and I spread a napkin over my lap.

“It must have slipped your mind,” Camilo hissed, his voice rough.

“Oh, shoot. I was sure I had… Are you still vegan?”

He forced a smile. “Still am.”

“My, my, was this an innocent mistake,” I chuckled while taking off my jacket and hanging it on the back of my chair.

Now, it was his turn to check me out. “I bet it was. Same as you deciding to wear the sluttiest outfit in your closet.”

I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my chin on my palm. “It’s hardly the sluttiest thing I’ve got in my closet,” I told him in a sweet, low tone that made him bite his lip.

Yeah, baby boy. Daddy’s talking.

He leaned closer. “Just what do you have hung in that closet?”