AidenI knew he noticed the pickup truck but I honestly couldn’t care less..The maître d’ greeted us with the kind of smile reserved for people who looked like they belonged.I didn’t.Not in places like this.The restaurant glowed beneath soft amber lights that reflected off crystal glasses and polished marble floors. Every table was dressed in white linen, candles flickering gently between expensive floral arrangements, while a pianist in the corner coaxed slow jazz from a grand piano. The room smelled of butter, rosemary, and expensive wine.Elian, however, looked perfectly at home.He slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat as we followed the hostess deeper into the dining room, his attention wandering over the artwork on the walls rather than the people staring discreetly in our direction.“I think they expect me to know which fork is for what,” he whispered.I laughed under my breath.“They expect me to pay.”His grin widened. “So you’re saying I should order the lobster
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