Page 55 of The Need to Know

We stepped outside and I chanced a look over my shoulder, finding Jonelle and Paisley already cracking up about something.

I came back to Ezekiel and he was chuckling beside me.

“What’s so funny?” I dared to ask.

Ezekiel elbowed me. “You.” He leaned down to tease me further. “You really thought I would stroll through ya spot with another woman? Come on, now, I got more sense than that.”

“A man with sense? Haven’t seen one in a while.”

Ezekiel smirked. “You’ll learn soon enough not to write me off.”

He placed his hand to the small of my back and led me across the crosswalk over to the parking area. Today he’d driven his red Acura, and like the gentleman he was, he went and opened the passenger door for me.

Returning the favor, I leaned over the driver’s seat and opened his door for him. A gesture that made him smile as he slid in beside me.

“So, what you hungry for?” he asked.

I buckled in and thought it over. “Italian sounds good.”

Ezekiel started up the car and looked over at me. “Ever have Dellucci’s?”

Dellucci’s was one of the few five-star restaurants in Belmont. Growing up, I’d always heard about the homestyle Italian dishes and how amazing the atmosphere was. Except, the restaurant was harder to get into than the Capital.

“I wish, that place is impossible to get into,” I said with a pout.

Ezekiel appeared thoughtful. “Is that what you want?”

I faced him. “I’d love to try them, but we can’t get in.”

Ezekiel pulled his cell phone from his pocket and placed in an AirPod. He sifted through his phone and dialed a number before he began backing out of the spot.

Curiously, I watched him maneuver out of the strip mall into traffic on the street as his phone call picked up. “What up? … Oh, you know how it is over here, playboy … Yeah, I need a table for two … Love.” He hung up and kept driving.

There was no way.

Absolutely. No. Way.

In thirteen painfully anxious minutes, Ezekiel drove quietly from Shéc all the way over to the upper east side to Dellucci’s. I wasn’t sure if he was trying to impress me, but by the packed parking lot, I knew I was right and that we wouldn’t be let in. The rumors were true, no matter the time of day, Dellucci’s was always booked and busy.

Ezekiel wasn’t fazed by the line of vehicles filling the lanes in the front of the building. He drove around back, past a sign that read employee parking only, and pulled into a space a few feet from a set of hunter green dumpsters. A man, who was clearly a cook judging from his white uniform, was outside smoking a cigarette.

My mouth was open in shock and denial had me refusing to budge from my seat.

“Come on, let’s eat,” Ezekiel insisted.

There was no way.

Ezekiel met me at my door as I finally stumbled out of my side and he took my hand. The cook tipped his head at Ezekiel, a warm smile on his face as Ezekiel went and opened the back door marked employee entrance only.

Inside, we were in a back hallway, and by the loud chatter nearby and the smells of sauce, I knew we were approaching a kitchen.

Ezekiel led me from the back hallway to the kitchen, where men and women dressed in white were in an assembly line preparing dishes on plates at chrome tables, while other men were at stovetops pouring wine in pots or stirring items in other pots. All the different foods smelled delicious, and as we breezed through the bustling room, no one was bothered or shocked by our intrusion.

“Ezekiel!” a round man called out as we neared the kitchen exit.

Ezekiel paused, finding the man and greeting him with a big smile. “Giorgio!”

Giorgio abandoned his station and came over to us with a white platter before him, on it was a small serving of what looked like pesto and gnocchi. “Give it a little try. Nice and fresh for ya!”