“If you’re after something sweet, the apple pie is pretty good. I know because I made it,” she adds with a grin.
“Then you better give me a slice of that too,” I say, winking at her. As she walks back to the kitchen I glance over at the studio. I have no idea if Lucy eats lunch over there or what. I guess I’ll find out.
The waitress comes back with a tray carrying my sandwich, coffee, the apple pie, and a glass of soda.
“The soda is on me,” she says, setting it all in front of me.
“Thanks,” I say, taking a mouthful. She nods again and leaves me alone to eat. I’m half through my lunch when I hear my name being spoken, which scares the life out of me. I look up and see Benito. My mouth drops open. He was once my closest friend and is a very distant relative; I haven’t seen him since my parents’ funeral. It’s been eight years, but I’d recognize him anywhere. I smile, the tiny jagged scar that frames his right eye a reminder that my mother was right—some trees should be left unscaled.
“Holy shit. Pietro, is that really you?” he asks, walking over to me. I stand up and extend my hand, still trying to process what I’m seeing.
“What are you doing here?” I mumble, throwing my arms around him. He grins, shaking his head, obviously as shocked as I am. “Getting coffee.” He winks. “Oh, you mean in America? I moved over here after college and loved it so much I stayed. Fell in love, you know.”
“Are you still with the girl?” I ask. Even at fifteen, Benito was a heartbreaker. I couldn’t imagine him settled down with a woman until a transfer student came onto the scene. From America, she managed to get under his skin like no girl ever had. The two of them had been inseparable. I’d heard they’d become engaged at eighteen, but I had no idea if they were still together.
“Yep, married now with two kids. A girl and a boy. Twins, would you believe?” He shakes his head. “What about you? Lucky lady in your life?”
“Not for me. Not yet, anyway.” I grin. I can’t help but notice my friendly waitress standing by the till, hanging on our every word. “Do you work around here?”
He points to a building down the street. “Just over there. I own a deli with my father.” He shakes his head again, like he can’t believe he’s run into me. “He’ll be so happy to hear I ran into you. What are you doing Friday night? You should come over for dinner. I know Carrie would love to meet you, too.”
“Sure, that sounds great,” I reply. And it does. Getting out and away from Lucy for a few hours will be just what I need by then, I bet.
He hesitates as we exchange numbers, a serious look on his face. “I wanted to contact you when I came out here, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want the memories, you know?” He shifts awkwardly, his eyes avoiding mine.
I chuckle. “I would’ve loved to hear from you, Benito. Not all my memories of home are bad. See you Friday.”
I leave him to pick up his lunch. Just as he leaves, I see Lucy leaving the studio. Perfect timing. I pay my tab, promising the waitress I’d be back. After Lucy is safely inside, I walk across the street and down to my apartment building. I’m about to call Giovanni to tell him about Benito, but something stops me. I can’t explain why, but my gut tells me to keep it to myself. For now, at least.
My phone pings. I pick it up, expecting
it to be Benito with his address, but it’s Lucy.
Lucy: I’m a bad friend. I just realized I didn’t respond to your message earlier.
I chuckle and tap back a response. I was convinced I’d stepped over the line. Maybe I could still save this.
Me: I thought I must have scared you off. Sorry if I was getting a little full on. Probably best we keep this in the friend zone, huh?
She doesn’t respond right away, and I’m left wondering again if I’ve misread the situation. All I’m trying to do is make her feel comfortable, but I keep putting my foot in it.
Lucy: You didn’t scare me off, but you’re probably right. Your friendship is important to me. I’d hate to jeopardize that.
I decide the best thing for both of us is a change of subject. I ask her how her first few days have been. The next few messages from her are full of excitement about her dancing and a new friend she’s made.
Satisfied, I smile. I think we’re back on track.
Chapter 9
Pietro
Between the constant calls from Giovanni checking in, and following Lucy, I feel like I don’t have a moment to myself. Even though I know she won’t be going anywhere for a good eight hours when she enters that studio, I can’t bring myself to not be there in case she needs me. So I sit for hours in the coffee shop, waiting, filling my time by working on my thesis and drinking an endless cups of coffee.
Is it any wonder I have trouble getting to sleep at night? It’s not even ten a.m. and I’m on my fourth cup.
“This is the fifth day in a row I’ve seen you here.” I look up and smile at the pretty waitress as she refills my cup.
“Beats writing this thing at home,” I reply. She peers over my shoulder to look at the screen.