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The significance of what I’m holding in my hands hits me full force. I tuck the card back into the compartment, zip it shut and hug it to my chest.
***
“Who taught you how to cook?” I look down at my almost empty plate. Rocco prepared a delicious meal of salmon, risotto and a side of roasted vegetables. He paired it all with a bottle of white wine.
If that wasn’t enough, he brought me a vase filled with pink daisies.
“Marti,” Rocco answers succinctly. “All of her grandchildren have to spend a summer at the restaurant when they’re fourteen. She uses that time to teach us the basics of cooking and the facts of life.”
I laugh. “Marti taught you the facts of life?”
“I stopped her after she brought up a bird and a bee.” He winks. “I told her I didn’t need the lesson, and she told me to always use a condom.”
“Your grandma is the best grandma in the entire world.”
I haven’t brought up the card I found in Marti’s purse. It wasn’t mine to see and I’m not sure how Marti would feel about knowing I’ve seen it.
He takes a swallow of wine from one of the coffee mugs he found in my cupboard. After he arrived at my apartment two hours ago, he ran back and forth between my place and his gathering all the cooking utensils and pans he needed to make us dinner.
“Tell me about your family.”
“There’s always been just the three of us. My mom, Raelyn and me.”
“Raelyn is your sister?”
I nod. “Younger sister.”
A question is there in his eyes. I know it’s about my dad so I answer before he can ask. “My dad left right after Raelyn was born. We met up with him a few years ago but there was too much water under the bridge.”
The details about the meeting don’t matter. It was in a diner on a Sunday afternoon. He wasn’t looking for daughters. His next meal was his only concern. We left with Raelyn in tears and my anger boiling over.
I change the subject easily. “Did I tell you how handsome you look tonight?”
He looks down at the dark jeans and white button-down shirt he’s wearing. “You like this look?”
“This look.” I circle my finger in front of his face. “You’re the best looking man I’ve ever met.”
“I’ve never met a woman like you.” He rakes me over.
He did the same when he arrived. I showered after I finished working and slipped into a strapless black maxi dress. The only thing I’m wearing underneath is a pair of black panties.
My hair is in loose curls around my shoulders. I opted for mascara and a thin coating of pink lip gloss that is now mostly on the rim of my coffee mug.
“A woman with pink-streaked hair?” I ask.
He slides his chair closer to me. We’re seated at the small dining room table that came with the place. The two chairs are mismatched; both are wooden, but mine is painted blue and Rocco’s is white.
“A woman who is fiercely independent, determined, sexy-as-hell.” He pushes my hair back over my bare shoulder. “You’re strong and soft at the same time.”
I like that he sees me that way. I’ve worked hard to take care of myself. I haven’t relied on anyone in years. Whatever my future holds it’s because I’ve taken the steps to get myself there.
“I know this is officially a date.” He drags my hand up to his mouth to feather kisses over my palm. “I want to talk business for a few minutes.”
A grin tugs at my lips. “I think we can fit in some business before the pleasure.”
“Here?” He tilts his chin toward my bed.
“There.” I point at the windows and his apartment across the way. “I don’t want all of your neighbors to watch us.”
