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“Hey, how is your morning? I was hoping you’d want to have coffee with me sometime before you leave the country. I think you’re beautiful.”
Internally, I could scream. It’s such a low bar to consider, but most men open with shorthand greetings and nothing else. Occasionally, they’ll send a picture of their penis without asking. Receiving a message as clear and intentional as this one puts my guard down immediately.
“He’s saying he wants to have coffee,” I say, my voice a bit distant as I try to refocus.
“Then go have coffee with him right now! For fucksake!” Samira interjects, giggling a little to herself.
I want to roll my eyes and sigh, but I need to try to keep the peace. I wish I could send one of them in my place just to get them off my back, but it’s clear that Marcello is interested in me and only me.
It feels very strange to be singled out by an attractive man when I’m surrounded by beautiful women. I never considered myself to be of the same caliber as Samira or Priya, and there’s a part of me that is convinced that this is all just a big joke. The idea of being misled and mocked makes my stomach turn. Now I don’t want to go at all.
“Tell him you’ll meet him in two hours. That way, I can do your makeup for you,” Samira remarks. “I can get you ready really quickly if you’re okay with a dewy, sexy look.”
Samiraismuch better at makeup than I am, and she clearly is going to get quite a lot of satisfaction out of this, so I cave and decide to text Marcello.
“Okay, where would you like to meet? I can be there in around two hours.”
Samira squeals as I hit send. “I’m seriously so excited for you. You have no idea how much fun this is to watch from the sidelines.”
I scoff a little to myself, but I have to admit that I am a little excited about it at this point. I decide to just let myself enjoy the adventure even if it ends in complete disaster.
“Alright, I guess I need to go make myself presentable. Or do you think I should go like this so hereallyknows what he’s getting into?” I ask, gesturing towards my smeared makeup and messy hair.
Grace turns towards me, putting down her book for a moment. “If you went like that, you would probably scare him off women for the rest of his life. He’d think we’re all catfishing him.”
I roll my eyes and head back into my room. When I try to remember what I’ve packed for each event, all I can think of are the billowy floral dresses that I bought a day before we flew out. Would that be too dramatic? Does it matter? I’m in Italy going on a date with a handsome stranger. I think a little bit of drama is appropriate.
I choose the cream-colored dress with the pink flower pattern, turning and posing in the mirror as I admire the way the fabric lays over my body. I’m already feeling more confident than I thought I would, so I select a pair of dainty gold earrings with a matching necklace. After some deliberation, I swipe a matching pink lipstick over my lips, pulling the whole look together.
I can’t remember the last time I felt this good about myself.
When I leave the hotel, I realize that I feel lighter and more confident than I have in maybe ten years. Because of my upbringing, I never really emphasized my appearance, even as a teenager. The times that I really went all out for dances or dates were orchestrated solely by my friends who were dying to dress me up.
As soon as I step out onto the sidewalk, I can feel the eyes of men walking past me as they notice me. Beingnoticedby a guy is the most foreign experience for me and I’m almost intimidated by it. I feel so seen, like I need to put on a performance for everyone who expects my outward appearance to match my demeanor.
It takes some getting used to, but I’m able to walk through the streets with my head held high, almost as if I’m on my way to step on the neck of my husband’s mistress with my heels on. When I visualize myself in this completely made-up situation, I can’t help but smile to myself. I’m going to live in my own delusion for a little while, and I’m going to see where it gets me.
ChapterThree
MARCELLO
After confirming the place and time for our meeting, I’m fully able to allow myself to feel excited about meeting June for coffee. I’ve never had a date with an American, and I’ve heard that they can be very animated and vibrant under the right circumstances.
The coffee shop that I’ve chosen has been popular with my family since I was a teen. I used to meet my mother here after school when she was helping out with their bookkeeping. She would order me an espresso to keep my energy up after a long day, which shocks me now, considering how strongly it affected me. I was always up until at least midnight, planning some kind of science experiment or project. It would always disappear from my mind the second I woke up the next morning, but it at least kept my mind active.
I’m sitting at a table on the outdoor patio when I see June approach. I was curious to see what she looked like in the natural sunlight versus the low, suggestive light of the bar, but I couldn’t be more impressed with her.
Her skin glows beautifully as though she’s spent the entire summer basking in the sun on the beach. The slight shimmer of her jewelry contrasts this feature perfectly.
It’s not something I would normally notice on a woman. Usually, I see her eyes, hair, or breasts first, but June has already changed how I look at a woman. I haven’t even spoken to her today yet, and I’m smitten.
“Hi, sorry if I’m a little late. There was a convention at our hotel, so it was nearly impossible to get out of the parking lot,” she says breathlessly as she meets me. I figure that she must have walked here, evidenced by the sweet pink flush across her face.
“Oh, please don’t worry about it. I’m just happy you’re here at all,” I reply, gesturing for her to sit down across from me.
As she sits, I can see how difficult it is for her to cover up her anxiety. I can understand, of course. Meeting a complete stranger in a foreign country sounds a little bit nerve-racking. There are customs and traditions everywhere that are impossible to learn in detail unless you’ve observed them for a prolonged period of time. She could very easily be hesitant about offending me without knowing.
“What’s good here?” she asks, grasping for the drink menu placed between a small cluster of potted plants that sit in the middle of the table.
