Page 6 of Ciao, Amore

There were more people filling the diner, more noise. Daniela said, “I’d like a slice of pecan pie, if they’ve got it,” and he signaled the waitress again. Two slices were delivered to the table, and they fell back into their bubble.

HUMMINGBIRD

DANI

Dani ponderedhow to answer his question. Why had she said “yes” to an ad like that after swearing off men months ago? The answer had been hard to explain, even to herself.

* * *

It wasa slow Thursday at work. The Madison Avenue branch was too quiet. Without Jade, her partner in crime, it was also a bit lonely. There was a lull in client calls, so Dani played mahjongg on her computer and listened to Rush on her headset. Jade messaged her, announcing she had an interesting proposition from the Holidates app.

“This guy wants a fake date to Italy. All expenses paid, no strings.”

Dani responded with a resounding, “No more dates, Jade.”

She sent the ad to her anyway, and Dani wheezed silent laughter in her cubicle, thinking the poster sounded like a crazy frat boy. The first picture she saw had confirmed that. Four men ranging from their twenties to thirties, all with differing degrees of hotness. All wearing baseball caps and gleefully holding up their middle fingers to the camera with beer bottles in their other hands. Every one of them had the telltale red flush of drunkenness in their cheeks.

Year Zero had been hard on Jade, but clearly, the effort of trying to find Dani a suitable husband had destroyed her sanity.

Dismissively, she said, “Bronx Dude Bro? That’s a no.”

“If that’s him, this is you,” Jade responded, and sent a picture of a disgruntled heart-shaped cartoon character with a shot glass and a burning cigarette. It was sitting next to the caption: “Single & Bitter.”

Oof. That hit a bit hard.

Then Jade sent pictures of The Stallion by himself. When Dani saw the next picture, she went silent after a soft, “Oh.” That picture was…nice. More than that. It was a direct hit to the middle, the softest part of her.

Damn, he was the most handsome from the group pic. He wore a gray polo shirt that hugged the muscles in his shoulders. Where the sleeves ended, lightly tanned skin appeared. His veined arms were long and dusted with dark hair. That shirt loved his broad chest and his shoulders, stretching across its planes and skimming down his flat stomach.

His thick brown hair was shiny and spiky on top, tapering neatly down to his neck. Facial hair graced his upper lip and his chin, but not enough to conceal the bright white smile of nearly perfect teeth or the lips themselves, the bottom plump and red and thoroughly kissable. The nose was a good shape with a prominent bump in the ridge. She felt a guilty flush at the tightening of her nipples at that strong Roman nose and that red-lipped smile. But it was the eyes that captivated her most, smiling into the camera with humor, dark-blue sea glass scattered across a deep ocean floor. The expression in them gave off kindness.

Immediately, she had to wonder why a man who looked like this would need a fake date. In addition to that, the tone of his words and the expression on his face didn’t match. And unfortunately, the mystery of that intrigued her.

She’d never admit it to Jade, but she stared at that picture a lot over the next few days. Way too much. That face had unwillingly swum into her mind the one or three times she’d made herself come in bed at night since seeing it. His was the smile that floated into her head when she daydreamed alone at lunchtime.

Fantasizing about him had become an uncomfortable little obsession. She knew fantasies usually died when confronted with reality. That’s why they always said never meet your heroes.

That was the real reason she’d wanted to meet him.

To make the little obsession stop.

* * *

Beingwith Nico Donahue in person for the first time had done nothing to kill those fantasies. When her eyes landed on him and he smiled, it was as though the sky had opened up on a rainy day and poured clean, calming light all over her. The kindness she’d imagined emanated from him, surrounded her, and she had no choice, she simply had to respond. She could tell he liked what he saw, and so did she.

Up close, the sleepiness of his eyes when he smiled made her legs shift and press together. There was a tinge of saltwater in the air, and she realized it was coming from him, along with what smelled like sage. She ignored them, blocking them out with the creamy, sweet taste of her coffee. She didn’t usually compare men to drinks, but now creamy and sweet would be inextricably linked with Nico and what he might taste like if she sucked…

Okay, stop.

She was talking to a man who’d told her point blank he was bitter and heartbroken and had zero interest in relationships. Dani realized she had a ridiculously strong attraction to the most unavailable of men, but this one took the prize. But that red flag—that crimson cloth waving in warning—only beckoned her to come closer.

“Should I start with Milan, or do you want backstory?” she asked.

“Kindergarten. Go for it.”

His voice was low and humorous. He had a bit of that old New York accent, but softer on the ears, more melodic. She could sit and listen to him talk all damned day.

“Alright. My name is Daniela Grace Martina. Everybody calls me Dani, but I’ll answer to either. I’m thirty-six, and I still live with my mom and dad. It’s so fun.” He grinned, and she went on. “My parents are from Curaçao, but I was born in New York. Sister, brothers, etcetera. I’ve never been married. I dedicated one full year, starting with my thirty-fifth birthday, to trying to find my one true love. I called it my Year Zero.”

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