Page 46 of Dishing Up Love


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We do, and then the rest of the group introduces themselves, Cameron, Dominik, Andrea, and Carson all politely shaking our hands before Dominik leans down to pet the dog behind his ear, introducing him as Java.

Vaguely, I hear Cameron whisper to Andrea something about how much the photos of me and Erin will be worth when they get back to Cali, and Erin steps in, clearly having heard her too.

“How about we make a deal?” she asks, and Dominik looks up from where he’s obviously recording. “If you delete the photos and video you’re currently taking—” She glares at him until he has the decency to look a little ashamed and shuts it off. “—I will take you to a group of less fortunate people who would gladly let you interview them for your movie. They are kind and good-hearted and won’t be assholes to you the way this… Beau person was. You’ll get all the information you need, and then Curtis, who you clearly are a fan of and wouldn’t want him to suffer any shit for being in an embarrassing tabloid magazine that’ll definitely spread false rumors about him banging a mystery woman in a public restroom, can rest easy knowing that won’t happen.”

The group turns in toward each other, and after a moment of murmuring, Dominik holds out his unlocked phone, the Photos app on display, where we see at least a hundred photos and videos taken of this entire situation, which has only been a total of maybe five minutes.

“One condition. I’ll let you delete everything so you can be sure they’re all gone, but…” He pauses, and Erin and I glance at each other.

“Buuut…?” I prompt, giving in to what he so clearly wants.

“Dude. You gotta take a selfie with us. No one is going to believe we ran into Chef Curtis Rockwell in the middle of the night in New Orleans, man! This is so awesome!” Dominik exclaims, and I smile, nodding at his excitement.

“Deal,” I tell him, and as I take his phone and delete all the photos, I hear him speaking to Erin.

“And if I can get your information, I’d love to put you in the end credits of the movie. If these people really are willing to let us interview them and get all the intel we need, that’ll make our jobs so much easier than trying to gain it by pretending to be homeless. We’re obviously not very good at acting, hence why we’re studying to be the people behind the cameras.” He chuckles.

When I get everything deleted, remembering to go in and permanently trash the Recently Deleted folder, I spin toward the bathroom door so the light above it is facing all of us. I pull Erin into my side, hit the front-facing camera button, and hold the phone up high so the entire group of us is in focus.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Ready!” all of them reply.

And I grin and say, “New Orleeeans!” as I hold down the shutter button, getting a burst of about thirty photos just in case someone blinks.

Chapter 13

Erin

THE GROUP OF students tagged along with us a few streets over until I found my old pal and pro bono patient Gunny and his buddies in their usual spot. After explaining everything to them, and after Dominik offered to treat them all by doing the interview in a nearby diner all on his tab, Gunny and everyone agreed enthusiastically. And Curtis and I left them to it, strolling down the narrow sidewalk hand in hand.

“Well, that was… interesting,” he tells me quietly, shaking his head and smiling as he watches his feet.

“Yeah. Crazy shit like that happens every day here in NOLA. Keeps ya young and on your toes, I guess.” I giggle. “You hear that?” I ask, glancing up at Curtis once more.

He cocks his head. “What is all the yelling?” He blinks.

“That, good sir, is the one and only Bourbon Street. We’re currently walking parallel to it. It’s just two blocks over. See the lights?” I point up over the building, where you can see the lights from all the bars, shops, clubs, and strip joints illuminating the sky.

“No shit?” he asks, his face suddenly full of awe.

I giggle once more. “No shit. You wanna go? After all the excitement, beignets, and coffee, I’m one hundred percent sober and fully awake.”

“How about we change that to about seventy-three percent sober and still fully awake until after about the third… maybe fourth orgasm I plan on giving you?”

My eyebrow lifts and my feet halt, our arms stretching out as our hands stay linked because he takes a couple steps before he realizes I froze.

“What?” he prompts. “I thought we were skipping the whole playing coy, pretending we don’t know what’s going to happen at the end of the night thing.”

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