Page 30 of Love, Amy

I know Suzy would approve. I’ll have to introduce them. Someday.

Aurelio is delighted by the selection they offer, requesting a full spread for the two of us to share. I agree, providing there are numerous chocolate items. The staff know me well enough from my previous visits, but they aren’t tennis fans, so no one is overawed by our presence. It’s well after midnight and only a few other couples are scattered across the patisserie. I tilt my head toward the back staircase. “Let’s sit upstairs. They’ll bring our pastries up in a few minutes.”

We walk up the tiny spiral staircase in the back. Aurelio has to duck his head, so he doesn’t hit it on the way up. It’s quiet upstairs. There’s only one other couple, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. I walk away from them and towards the windows. They’re floor to ceiling glass and look out onto the sprawling city streets of Paris. You can even see the Eiffel Tower glittering in the distance.

Aurelio is standing behind me. I peek at him over my shoulder. “Killer view, right? I don’t know why anyone would sit downstairs.”

He smiles gently at me. “Yes, mia dolce, it certainly is.”

I know enough Italian to know that dolce means sweet. “I’m not sweet,” I scold Aurelio, but I don’t think he takes me seriously with the blush suffusing my cheeks.

I gesture to one of the small bistro tables by the window, and we sit. Aurelio’s long legs crowd my space, his foot pressed against mine, his knee brushing against me. My phone buzzes in my purse. I go cold, wondering if Beck has woken in the night and realized I’m gone. I pull out my phone, immediately sagging in relief when I see it’s Fernanda.

Fernanda:

How’s it going? Is the dress on his floor yet?!?!

Amy:

I can’t be friends with someone who uses so much punctuation.

I notice that it’s almost one in the morning.

Amy:

Why are you still awake? You need sleep.

Fernanda:

Don’t tell me that perfect Amy Bowman sleeps like the dead before a big match. I certainly don’t, lol.

A surge of sympathy goes through me. Maybe she needs a distraction, a happy one. I give her a morsel of truth.

Amy:

No dress on the floor, yet. Maybe later.

Fernanda:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I smile as I tuck the phone back in my purse. Aurelio watches me curiously. “Everything okay?”

I nod. “Fernanda’s just nervous before her big match tomorrow. I think our date is a good distraction.”

Aurelio raises a brow. “You told her about us?”

I wince guiltily. “I didn’t tell her, exactly, she guessed. I’m sorry.”

Aurelio waves it off. “No, no, it’s good. Fernanda is nice. And she probably guessed because I’m always looking at you like this.” He gives me his biggest moony eyes, and I let out a laugh.

He reaches for my hand, holding it across the table. We wait for our pastries, chatting quietly about the tournament and some of the other players we know. When they arrive with our tray, carrying it perilously up the stairs, my gaze snags on the couple in the back of the room. Earlier, they only had eyes for each other, but now they’re looking in our direction.

The worker and the tray of pastries probably caught their eye, I reassure myself. Especially since Aurelio got an espresso in the middle of the night. I eye the steaming cup. “I can’t believe you’re going to drink that. You’ll never get to sleep.”

He gives me a scandalized look. “It’s just one shot, Amy. Italian children drink this before bed.”

I shake my head. “I don’t drink caffeine. Coach’s orders.”