“Jesus, Harry! You okay?” I asked.
“Just went down the wrong way,” he said, his voice weak.
“Harry, have you read many of Faith’s columns?” Mom asked, when he could breathe again.
“Some,” he said, a faint blush building on his cheeks.
“She’s fabulous, is she not?” Papa said. “Such a creative way of dealing with such complex problems.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Harry said and tapped my hand. As he moved his hand away, I felt the searing heat still on my skin like it had been branded.
“She wants features at some point, don’t you, Faith?” Mom said and I felt my stomach sink. They didn’t know about the big feature of course. As open-minded as they were, I wasn’t sure it was something they would like to hear about. Mom, Papa, for the past several weeks I’ve been placed in stocks and ravished every which way to Sunday by a sexual master in a Phantom of the Opera mask.
“She mentioned that,” Harry said.
“One day,” Papa said, echoing Harry’s words, and smiled my way.
“So, how did you both meet?” Harry asked my parents, and the conversation trickled on from there. Over two courses and after-dinner coffee, conversation flowed. In the two hours spent at my parents’ house, I had never seen him so relaxed. I’d never seen him smile so much.
“Lucio, I’ll be seeing you sometime this week,” he said and shook Papa’s hand. “I know quite a few businessmen in Manhattan who would pay good money to have their suits tailored to your high standard. I’ll send them your way.”
“Grazie,” Papa said, his voice thick with gratitude.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said to Harry, pressing my hand on his lower back. I had to vacate the apartment quickly or become a broken, emotional mess at the sight of Papa so happy with Harry’s promise.
“Lovely to meet you, Harry. I hope you’ll come again,” Mom said affectionately. I could see by her moon eyes she was already smitten with Harry.
“I’d love that,” Harry said, and I felt every ounce of genuineness at those words.
With a wave to my parents, Harry took my arm and linked it through his. His gaze dared me to argue with him over the gesture. I made a show of pretending to fasten my mouth shut with an invisible lock. He tipped his head up to the sky. “Good Lord, I believe today we have witnessed a miracle. Faith Parisi is not offering her usual sarcasm to my chivalry. Thank you.” It took all that I was not to make a wisecrack to that, but I refrained.
As we descended the steps, Harry held tightly onto my hand. “Just wanted to make sure you don’t trip and fall headfirst on to the sidewalk. You seem to fall a lot in my presence.”
I tried to hold my tongue, I truly did, but it was too much to hold back. “Harry Sinclair, I can’t help it, your animal magnetism shakes the very ground you walk on, and I just cannot help but fall at your feet.”
He released a heavy sigh. “Well, it was good while it lasted.”
The sun started to set, casting a pink summer’s glow over the city. Harry opened the car door for me, and I stepped inside. That fluttering feeling was back underneath my sternum. It had taken me a while to get there, but I realized what it was when Harry slid into the driver’s side and gave me that wide smile he only seemed to offer in my presence.
I liked him.
Holy shit.
I liked him a lot.
Harry pulled out onto the street. “You are very lucky, Faith,” he said after a few minutes of silence. I was mute, frozen in shock at the truth that was smacking me in the face. I liked Harry. Oh my god, I was falling for Harry Sinclair. “To have parents like you have.” He swallowed the thickness in his voice. “The way they love you. Care for you. Take an interest in your life and work.” Harry’s eyes, which were firmly fixed on the road, were glistening.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, not wanting to interrupt the soothing stillness that had built up in the car. “I love them so much.” I thought of Papa’s situation and felt like crying.
“Faith?” Harry said and laid his hand on my thigh. In that moment, it was as warming as a tight embrace. “Is everything okay with your father? His health…”
“His health is fine.” I stared out the window at New York. At the hustling and bustling that teemed from every street and nook. Passing people who had problems of their own. Highs and lows and everything in between.
“You can talk to me. If you’re upset, I want to help you. I want to listen, if that’s what you need.”
“You do?” I asked and looked at Harry. I needed to know if he felt anything for me too. If he was falling just as quickly and deeply as I was. “Why?”