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“Patrick?” A woman's voice, low and liquid. “You sound the same.”
I stiffened. That voice took me back to a warm May sun, a dusty street in Rome, and all my belongings on the curb while I stared at a locked door.
I’d left a note on that door with my American cell, groveling like a dog.
Last summer, I would have killed for this phone call.
“Well, well, well.” I unclenched my jaw and stretched out in my desk chair, keeping my voice controlled. “I thought I'd be hearing from you. You left a scarf in my duffel bag last spring. I can mail it back to Italy, but it'll cost you.”
“You're so funny. What will it cost me?”
She was touching herself. I could tell from her breathy little voice and the way she suddenly inhaled, like she was surprised, every so often. I saw her naked, at my mercy, and shook off the image.
A gold hoop earring glinted from the corner of my desk. Must be Christina’s. I ran my finger around the rim, pulling my attention away from the past.
“We'll see how nice I'm feeling.”
“What about the watch? Please say you kept that. It looks so handsome on you.”
I didn’t reply. Most days, I conveniently forgot who’d bought my watch.
“You're back at school, aren't you? I always forgot that you’re a student. You have an old soul.”
I pulled my window open all the way, letting in a blast of freezing air, so her voice wouldn't wrap around my dick. “You didn't forget. You just didn't care.”
“No, I didn't, did I? I was so bad.” Her tone was remorseful, but there was no apology — only invitation.
“Why are you calling, Livia?”
“I went to that bar tonight. You know the one…” She trailed off. “I didn’t go since last year. It brought back memories.”
Going to the closet, I flipped through the dress shirts, every one like a page from an album. An entire closet of fucking souvenirs.
“Did you find your next project there?” I said.
“What do you mean?”
She didn’t understand the expression. But I refused to give her the advantage by switching to Italian.
“Raw material,” I said shortly. “Someone new. Disposable. Another American guy ten years younger than you. A man you could groom and discard.”
“Ah.” She laughed. “There was no one like you. You were a rare jewel. You could have been great, my tiger. You got scared, though, didn’t you? You refused to embrace your true nature. We could have gone so far…”
“No, you got scared.” I kept my voice soft. “You were counting on an end date. You never would have taken me in if I wasn’t going back to the states.”
“What a cruel thing to say.” She sighed — a sexy sigh, designed to arouse. “I think enough time has passed. There’s an ocean between us. Talk with me now for old time’s sake.”
I opened Christina’s earring, toying with the mechanism. “I’m not interested.”
She laughed. “Then why don’t you hang up?”
“Because you’re going to hang up first.”
There was a short pause as her breathing quickened. “Any new little girls in your life?”
That was another thing. I'd humiliated her in every way during sex, and that shit was a lot more hardcore than what I was doing with Christina. She'd always begged for more — begged me to bend her and crush her to my will. But every so often, she'd slip in a friendly reminder that I was younger. Less experienced in the ways of the world. She barely came up to my chest, but her words never failed to make me feel smaller than her.
“There's a newwoman,yeah.” I said.
