Almost an exact replica of the words that came from Daria.
I wave a hand at him because what else can I do. “It is what it is.”
He continues to watch me as if he wants to say something but after a moment he just lets out a grunt as if he understands.
For some reason, I appreciate that.
“Maybe coffee will help,” he suggests. “So what can I get for you two?”
Daria rattles off some complicated order that includes heavy cream and cinnamon sprinkles. I tell Polo to get me the same thing.
Daria is still watching me as if I’m going to climb up to the top of the building and jump off. I don’t like it. “Tell me how things have been going for you.”
“Good,” she says. “I’ve been working on getting everything settled for the engagement party. Papa and Abramo are going to be spending a pretty penny on it all. I enjoy the wrinkle that Abramo gets in his brow every time I send him one of my invoices.”
For the first time in a while I laugh and it feels good.
Daria beams at me. “He called me the other day to ask why in the hell he was spending fifty thousand dollars on dresses and I told him he hadn’t even gotten the receipt for my reception dress yet.”
“What did he say?”
“He hung up the phone on me.”
I chuckle.
“I don’t know why he doesn’t understand that I need the best dresses in the country. I need to look gorgeous for my wedding, and every event leading up to it.”
“You’re always gorgeous, Bellissima.” I have to place a hand to my chest as Polo appears beside the table. He places our drinks down and winks at Daria. “No matter the dress.”
He moves away from us, going to sit in another booth that allows him to see us but still offers a certain amount of privacy.
“What does bellissima mean?” The word is too smooth to be a curse, it sounds like the exact opposite.
Daria’s cheeks are flushed and her gaze is on the top of her coffee cup as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. “Beautiful.”
“What’s going on there?” I can’t hold the question in anymore. The idea of finding out more about Daria and Polo is enough to perk me up.
"Nothing,” she says before shaking her head, keeping her gaze down, “Absolutely nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” I pick up my coffee, taking a sip. The rich flavor is nice.
Daria sighs and her eyes flicker over to Polo’s booth. “I’m engaged,” she says as if trying to convince herself more than me.
“I’m aware.”
Her eyes move to mine. “I’m engaged to a man I don’t love and the one that I do love is going to be his best man.”
I take another sip of my coffee. “And there’s nothing you can do about it?”
She gives me a weak smile, “And there’s nothing I can do about it,” she confirms.