The Italian

Enrico and I stay in Milan from Monday to Thursday and on Fridays we go to Lake Como for the weekend.

The best of both worlds, privacy and luxury.

I’m so damn happy that I could explode.

“I was thinking we could maybe go out for some dinner and drinks tonight with Natalie.” I pull my black pencil skirt up and raise the zipper. “I haven’t seen her much, and I want to make an effort.”

It’s Wednesday morning, and we are at the Milan apartment getting ready for work. Enrico is in the bathroom with a white towel around his waist, shaving. “If you like,” he says as he concentrates on his task.

I watch him in the mirror as he slowly slides the razor over his chiseled jaw. No matter how many times I watch him do this, it will never be enough. I’ve found that the best way to ensure that I make it to work on time is to keep my distance while he gets ready in the morning. Him wearing a sharp designer business suit, encasing all that man, is simply to gorgeous for words. I throw on my dusty pink, chiffon, ruffled shirt, and I fasten the buttons.

“Maybe I could invite Giorgio and his boyfriend, too. I would like Natalie to get to know them better.”

“If you wish.” He continues shaving.

“Can we go to my favorite restaurant? The seafood one?” I slip on my high heels.

“If you like.” He finishes up shaving, and he puts his suit pants on along with a crisp white shirt. He begins to pull on his tie, and he loops it around as we talk.

Is he even listening to me? “What about your mother? Shall I ask your mother and Francesca?”

“No, Olivia,” he replies. “My mother doesn’t do drinks on a Wednesday, and Francesca is too young to drink.”

I smile as I walk into the bathroom. “So, you were listening?”

His eyes drop down my body, and then rise back up to my face. He steps forward and fastens up the top buttons on my shirt. “Yes, I was listening.”

“Will you book a table?” I kiss him softly and turn to the mirror to undo the two buttons again.

“Yes, I’ll book.” He turns me back toward him and does one of the buttons back up.

I go to undo it again, and he holds his hand up. “Leave it.”

I instantly stop. My body won’t disobey him, even if I wanted it to.

His eyes drop down me again, and he rearranges my skirt, tucking in my shirt.

“You look beautiful.” He smirks at me. “I don’t want anyone looking at what is mine. Leave the buttons fastened.” He runs his hand down my waist to my behind and gives it a hard squeeze before he goes back to working his tie. “We have to go to Roma this we

ekend,” he says.

“Why?”

“I have a business meeting there.”

I think for a moment. “I might stay here. It will be a good opportunity to see Natalie and catch up on a few things.” And by things, I mean sleep. This man is wearing me out with all his nocturnal activities.

“No.” He puts his suit jacket on.

“No?” I frown.

“You go where I go.” He slips on his shoes. “And we go to Roma this weekend. We can go to the bar where we met. I will take you dancing, we can re-enact our first date.”

I smile, knowing he’s dangling carrots now. “Okay.”

He lifts his briefcase. “Maso will take you to work this morning. Where are your keys?”

I begin to apply my makeup. “In my bag. Why?” I watch on as he slowly slides a key onto my keyring. “This key.” He passes me another two of the same one. “This is a key to your safety deposit box in Milan.” He passes me a business card. “Keep one of these keys at work, and another with Natalie or Giorgio.”