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I decided to give him another chance.
So here I was, and so far, his actions had done absolutely nothing to sway me over to his side. But when I thought more deeply about what had just happened, I realized I was being unfair to Fabio. What would I have done if I had found myself confronting a girl Angelo was making eyes at? I would have wanted to punch her mouth in too.
At this point, I stopped my train of thought. Where had that come from? What Angelo and I had was just chemistry. We could never be anything other than ships passing in the night. Nothing more could ever happen. My father would almost certainly have him killed if he thought anything was going on between us. I turned determinedly away from this subject and glanced at Fabio, but he appeared to be still smoldering with anger.
Nope, no point trying to strike up a conversation there. Might as well allow some time to pass for the steam to evaporate from his head. Hopefully by the time we arrived at the restaurant, he would have calmed down. No matter how hard it would be, I wanted to keep an open mind on the subject of Fabio.
When we arrived at our table however, he gallantly waited until the waiter had seated me before he took a seat himself and became extremely attentive to my needs. I felt surprised.
He found a wine from my father’s winery on the menu that he immediately ordered. The wine arrived and we clinked glasses. As I took a sip, our eyes met and he smiled at me. I smiled back. Finally, we both shared something we loved. For the first time tonight, I began to somewhat look forward to the outing.
“I’m having the lamb shank. I can recommend it,” he said opening the menu.
It took me only a few seconds to make my decision. Char-grilled chicken with baby fennel and wild rice.
“Excellent choice,” he complimented softly.
I took another sip of my wine and smiled at him. “Dad told me that you’ve been in charge of some parts of the business since the beginning of the year.”
“Yes,” he said simply.
“He also told me you’ve had an impressive record of growth, especially with the recent foray into Asia.”
“I have a capable team behind me,” he said.
Again, to my surprise, he seemed to act humble. Maybe I had judged him too fast and inaccurately.
Just then, he snapped his fingers to call the attention of the waiter.
I leaned back and wondered if I would ever like him as a person.
The waiter came over to take our order, and once he was gone, I politely inquired about his family.
Eventually, he started talking about his teenage sister, Maria who was about to round up with high school. I had met the girl a couple of times at parties and vaguely remembered her as a sweet little thing with dark curly hair.
“She wants to go to Florence to study design,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he thought of his baby sister. “But of course, my parents don’t want to hear of it.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t know?” he asked, twirling the stem of his wineglass in his fingers.
I drained my glass. “They are afraid she will be kidnapped?”
He nodded and looked away.
I followed his gaze around the candlelit restaurant. A grand piano on a small stage, and a man sat behind it, delivering tinkling music that further helped soften the ambience of the restaurant. It seemed like the perfect place to fall in love, which made me wonder as I turned to the man sitting before me, if I would ever be able to love him. At the thought, an image of Angelo out at the bar filled my head. Wearing his baseball hat, his face completely expressionless and drinking a glass of Coke.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Fabio murmured.
I appreciated the compliment with a soft smile, but it didn’t in any way compare to the intense pull I felt when Angelo even looked in my direction. But that— was just lust and it would burn out in a week. Marriage and lust had nothing to do with each other. Fabio was marriage material. Someone who understood the world I lived in and would stick by me to the very end. With great determination, I pushed Angelo out of my mind and replied, “And you look handsome tonight.”
It wasn’t a lie. He did look good for a change. His hair swept away from his pale face with an elegant look. He wore a crisp white shirt and his blazer was a dark shade of maroon … complete with a pocket square. As someone interested in design and color arrangements, it wasn’t a bad combination at all.
“Maybe our parents know best? Maybe we can pull his thing off,” he observed with a twist of his lips.
