Silent Prejudice

19

He’s changing me, too. Making me realize how quick I’ve been to jump to conclusions. There are so many things in this world that I know nothing about. How incredibly brazen I’ve been to judge what I don’t know. “We’re supposed to go over for dinner at six. I thought I’d make cookies to take with us. I’m sure Mrs. Larson will have a cake, but the kids love iced sugar cookies.” “I’m sure they’d appreciate that.” I grin, so incredibly happy for my sister. I debate telling her about Zeno and me, but I’m not sure what to say. I don’t want to scare her about Aldo, and otherwise, it’s a bit odd to explain how Z and I came together. Plus, I want to see him in person and put to rest the last of my fears before I go professing my feelings for him. If there’s any chance he’s going to regret sleeping with me, that should be obvious by this evening once he’s had plenty of time to consider what he’s done. Until then, I’ll wait anxiously to learn my future.

Dad insists we drive to the Bishops’ rather than walk. No one argues, but my mother gives him an odd look, and I understand why. The evening is unusually temperate. Dad loves the outdoors and would normally be the first to suggest we all walk and take full advantage of the weather. It’s out of character, but no one says anything. I suspect he has finally decided to err on the side of caution in light of recent events. Livia has gone to a friend’s house, leaving Gia, Marca, and me in the back seat of the car, along with Gia’s tray of cookies. Zeno and Elena are already at the house when we arrive. My insides twist and flutter at the sight of him, unable to decide if they are more nervous or excited. I’d completely forgotten about his birthday. I feel bad not having a gift or even a card, but we were hardly even speaking to one another a week ago. So much has changed in such a short span of time. He and Elena join Carter at the door to welcome us. I pay special attention to Zeno’s interaction with my father. Dad is stiff and reserved, adding to my suspicions that the two have spoken recently. I wonder what was said and desperately hope Zeno isn’t angry with my father. Dad’s discomfort seems to be one-sided, which makes me think any blame he’s feeling is likely self-imposed. My mother croons when Z places a welcoming kiss on her cheek. He is surprisingly attentive to her and even gives Marca a special hello when he normally sticks to a stoic nod or a raised glass in lieu of a greeting. When it’s my turn to pass before him at the tail end of our little procession, his eyes soften as his fingers weave through my hair to cup the back of my head. He pulls me close to place a kiss on my forehead as though it’s a ritual gesture we share frequently. I momentarily forget how to breathe. Gia pauses from her cheerful reunion with Carter to shoot me a bulging stare. I give her an innocent shrug as Carter’s two kids come rushing in. They wrap Gia in hugs and excitedly survey the cookies she made. The foursome is a Hallmark movie come to life, and I can’t help but grin at their happiness. Curious at its origin, I glance back at Zeno with a questioning look, but he merely raises a single quizzical brow and ushers me forward with a hand at the small of my back. As we walk toward the living area, I realize Cora is nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but one can only hope her absence is permanent. Even if she wasn’t solely responsible for Carter’s hasty exit, her snobby attitude couldn’t have helped. Without Cora’s snide comments or Livia’s whining, our gathering is perfectly crafted for the lighthearted enjoyment of a summer evening. Carter grills burgers. Gia and Marca play a card game with Boston and Emily. I sip on a Michelob Ultra and try not to stare at Z while he chats with Carter by the grill. It’s a storybook evening, aside from being asked several times what happened to my eye. I’d prefer not to be reminded of the homicidal lunatic who tried to r**e me but cannot escape the questions about something as noticeable as a shiner. I pass along the same made-up story I’d told my family, and no one raises any doubts. They laugh along with me as I regale my clumsiness, and the subject moves on to safer waters. Not long after we finish eating, Zeno steps into the yard to take a quick phone call. When he returns, he’s all business. Every ounce of birthday levity from minutes before has been erased. “Carter, I hate to do this, but I’ve been called to the city on urgent business.” “Oh … well, I hope everything is all right.” “Yeah, but I have to head out earlier than I would have liked.” Zeno’s eyes slide briefly to mine. “You want us to package up a slice of cake for you? I’d hate for you to miss your own birthday cake.” “How about you send a piece home with my mother? Antonio, would you mind giving her a ride back to Hardwick?” Dad nods gravely. “Of course. I’ll make sure she gets home safely.” “I appreciate that,” Zeno says, turning his attention back to Carter. “And sorry again to run. We’ll have to return the favor at my place next.” “Absolutely. Be safe on your way out.” Z smiles and nods his appreciation at a chorus of happy birthdays before making a hasty exit inside the house. I can’t let him leave without knowing if the call was about Aldo. I jump up with a muttered, “Excuse me,” and dash for the back door. “Z, wait!” I call out through the house as the front door clicks shut. When I reach the door and fling it open, I’m able to flag him down before he’s in his car. “Wait! I need to talk to you, just for a minute.” He closes the car door, and in several long strides, meets me on the other side of the black Range Rover. “I need to get going, Isa.” “I know, but the uncertainty is killing me. You have to tell me what’s going on. Do you know where Aldo went? Is he still alive?” Will he come after me? Flyaway hairs pull free from my messy bun when the evening breeze blows past. Zeno’s fingers coax them back behind my ears, then trail down to cup either side of my neck. His thumbs on my jaw angle my chin up to receive his kiss. A sensual caress filled with assurance, apology, and promise. “The less you know, the better, but be assured that I’m handling it.” His voice is as coarse as the gravel at our feet. He turns his head to the side and lets out a sharp whistle that startles me but not as much as seeing two men materialize from the bushes not twenty feet from us. I instinctively reach for Zeno. “What the hell?” “Easy, Isa. They’re with me. I wanted you to know that I’ve had eyes on you since the moment you left my house this morning. You have nothing to worry about.”