“This is little Italy. Haven’t you ever been here?”
“Not really,” I murmured, standing and closing the car door.
Jami tipped the valet and offered me his hand, which I took surprisingly quickly. He pulled me along the alley until we came out on the other side, underneath the neon lights that announced the name of the small alcove. The light radiated down onto us and when I looked around I couldn’t help but smile, watching children run through the streets with sparklers, giggling and squealing with joy.
“What is this?”
“This is the Italian li
ght festival. It’s something a little different. I thought you might enjoy it.” He said with a soft smile.
“Wow, Jami. I didn’t think— “
“You thought I was going to take you to a fancy bar and get you drunk.”
My cheeks went hot and I nodded, smiling a little. He shrugged and squeezed my hand. “That’s alright. Given my current track record with women…I don’t blame you.”
At least he was self-aware. He gave my hand a tug and I followed him into the street. We spent the evening sampling food from various restaurants. The people who spooned pasta onto our plates were dark haired man and women who’d owned their restaurants since they immigrated from Italy. Lively music played in the streets and every hour, on the dot, a flock of paper lanterns were released into the sky. I watched them in wonder, my heart beating faster.
I hadn’t expected a date like this. I hadn’t expected something so wonderful and unique and I certainly hadn’t expected to end up in his arms at the end of the night, build close to his strong body as we swayed together to the sounds of Italian instrumentals.
The cool wind blew through my hair, tickling my shoulders and neck. I looked up at him and smiled, putting my head on his shoulder as we moved in perfect sync. “This is nice.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah. I’d say you knocked the ball out of the park.”
He chuckled and pressed his hand into my lower back. “I didn’t think a fancy restaurant or bar was a good date for a chef. Besides, you can cook better food than any restaurant I could have taken you to.”
He spun me round and I was grinning when I faced him again. “You know how to butter a girl up, don’t you?”
“It’s one of my many talents.”
Damn this guy was charming as hell. Everything he said and did caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected myself to be so happy to be here. I had expected a lackluster date and instead I got my first taste of culture since being back home.
The veranda was filled with other couples, moving to the sound of the music and I couldn’t help but feel like we were just like them. There was just as much hope and promise in our budding relationship.
As the music ended, Jami pulled away and smiled, nodding towards the inside of the building. I followed him through the ornate structure, brushing past hand painted murals and rich, oak tables. We finally came to the other side of the veranda where a single table sat with a bottle of wine. I crossed my arms and chuckled to myself.
“Mmmm…So you did pull some strings.”
He smiled and pulled one of the chairs out so that I could sit. “Just a few.”
I rolled my eyes playfully but settled in the seat, looking up at him. “This has been really nice. It’s better than I expected.”
“I’m glad I could exceed your expectations.” He poured us both a glass of wine and sat down as well, holding a glass up.
I clinked mine against his before taking a long drink of the sweet, pungent liquid. This was good wine. “So, what is with this whole playboy persona, huh? I mean, when I told Miguel about it, the first thing he told me was to beware of the big bad wolf. He said you were going to try and seduce me and then run off.”
“He wasn’t wrong to warn you. That is my calling card around town.”
“Why?”
He glanced up at me and sighed, sipping his glass. We were both already tipsy from the drinks we’d had earlier in the night and our lips were already loose. I figured now would be the best time to really get to know him.
Jami sighed and leaned back in the wrought iron chair, inspecting the drink in his hand. “Why? That’s a good question,” he mused. He set the glass down and looked at me for a moment. “Because I never wanted to get attached. I didn’t want to end up in a situation where I’d fallen in love with someone only to realize they didn’t want anything other than my money,” he said bitterly.
The words had a whole lot of hurt behind them. I could practically feel the pain pulsing through him. He’d been hurt before and I couldn’t even blame him for keeping people at arm’s length. I’d never, and probably would never, have the kind of money he had. I’d never worried about people using me for my money.