The Italian

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Bianca asks me.

My eyes flick to Lorenzo. “Do we have time?”

“Yes, of course.” He stands. “Come, Francesca, I’ll walk you out.”

Don’t leave me alone with her.

“It was great seeing you again.” Francesca kisses me on the cheek and skips out of the room. I watch her and Lorenzo as they walk side by side.

Hmm… still no mention of the engagement. Does she even know? My eyes come back to Bianca, and hers are fixed firmly on me. “How do you like your coffee?”

Damn, Enrico is getting an earful when I see him. Why would he put me in this position?

I slide onto the stool beside her. “Just with milk, please.”

I watch her as she makes my coffee. My heart is beating fast. I don’t know what to say to her. She makes me nervous as fuck.

She puts the coffee back down in front of me, and I look down at it. “Thank you.”

It’s so strong, it could start a car.

I smile as I take a sip, and I clench my jaw to stop myself from gagging. It wouldn’t just start a car, it could fuel a fucking rocket ship.

She sips her coffee as her eyes assess me, and we sit in uncomfortable silence for a while. I feel like she has something to say but is holding her tongue.

I look around nervously. “It’s a beautiful home you have.”

“Thank you.”

She’s still wearing her cream silk robe with a matching nightdress. Her long, dark hair is styled like she’s in Hollywood. She looks beautiful. There’s not a hair out of place.

Who looks this good when they wake up?

I nervously drag my hand through my knotted ponytail. God, what must I look like?

I take another sip of my rocket fuel. Jesus Christ. Who drinks this shit for fun?

“I might just put some sugar in it, if that’s okay?” I say nervously.

“Too strong for you?”

“Yes.” I force a smile. “A little.” Too strong for human consumption, actually. This stuff would kill a dog.

Her eyes drop to my engagement ring.

I wait for her to say something. Please say something.

“So, you’re engaged?”

Oh shit. Not what I was hoping to hear. “Yes.”

Her eyes rise and hold mine for an extended time.

I twist my fingers in my lap as I wait for her to elaborate, which she doesn’t.

“You’re unhappy about it?” I ask.

She rolls her lips and looks away from me.