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“We both made mistakes, Salvatrice. A shit-ton of them, but I am trying to fix things and all you do is make it harder.”
She exhaled, defeated – finally – and let her weight lean on my body. She hugged me, but instead of putting my hands around her, I picked her up and started walking again.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you to dinner because I’m hungry and horny, and I have a lot of things to tell you.”
An administrative clerk waited for us at the entrance. A young man wearing a brown costume too big for his skinny body, who told us about the layout of the place and recited a set of rules to us. The first floor was entirely prohibited, and I was fine with that because I had absolutely no interest in the museum, and we had to sign a waiver in which we agreed we would be respectful of the place and not destroy stuff. Luckily, this didn’t include the furniture, which wasn’t by any means a part of the history. Thank God, because I had some plans to break that fucking bed while making love to my woman.
“We’ve got it, thank you,” I told the young boy, slipping him a fifty-dollar bill after he unlocked the doors for us.
“Of course, sir. There is a waiter on the roof ready to serve you, and the room is ready as we arranged on the phone.” With that, he nodded, gave me a set of keys, and disappeared.
“Let’s go eat, amore, and we’ll see the bedroom after.”
“Sure.”
She walked behind me, holding my hand.
The top of the tower wasn’t a big area, occupying the space above the private bedroom, but the restaurant made good on my request and had lit candles all over to give it a romantic allure. The table was set for two, in the corner closest to the sea, so we could enjoy the view and watch the sun hide in the depths of the water. On the corner across from the table, there was an improvised bar and a serving tray filled with plates.
Our server, a brunette woman, was placing a few more candles on the table when we arrived, and she straightened her back, welcoming us with a smile.
“Signore, signora, welcome. I will be serving you tonight on behalf of La Bonne Bouche restaurant. Our chef designed a very enticing menu for you tonight.”
“Thank you.” I shook her hand to tip her too, very generously I might add. “I have another request for you.”
“Of course.” She did look ready to bend to my will.
“That’s the food right there?”
“Yes. Everything is fresh and I kept the plates heated for you.”
“I’m sure everything is perfect. Can you serve it all at once and come pick up your dishes tomorrow?”
“I…don’t you need me to serve your wine?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Sure, then, I will leave you to it.”
I helped Salvatrice to sit in her chair, kissed her exposed shoulder, and then went to sit in my own place, waiting for the girl to serve us. She came with a lot of plates on her arms and placed them all in front of Salva and I.
“Here you have tuna niçoise salad for your entrée, a spinach soufflé for your first course, beef burgundy and lobster bisque for the main and the desert, a lemon meringue pie. This meringue is famous here in Rapallo; it’s our chef’s signature dish and I’d go as far and say it’s the best dessert in the world.”
Salva raised her eyebrows suggestively and I chuckled under my breath. I couldn’t wait to hear her verdict on the pie.
Once the waitress filled our glasses, mine with whiskey, and Salva’s with lemon water, she said her goodnights and finally we were left alone.
“So,” Salvatrice said after she stayed in the background and let me deal with the personnel, “whatever you want to talk about must be important if you organized all of this.” Her fork dug into the soufflé and she moaned with excitement.
“Is the food to your liking?”
“It’s very good. I doubt that dessert is better than anything I can make, though. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Very, but I take a lot of pleasure in watching you eat.”
“Try this.” She stretched over the table and fed me. The food was indeed delicious, but it was much better eating from her hand. “What did you want to talk about?”
