"He wasn't always like that. I mean, I'd never heard him speak the way he spoke to us last Friday. But I wasn't surprised, all the same."
"You weren't."
"Luca grew up in the Bronx, in the nineties. It wasn't such a nice place to be back then. And deep down, I think he's still there, in some ways."
"Do you think he's really going to sue?"
"I wouldn't put it past him. But then, I wouldn't put it past anyone."
"Why?"
"You can always rely on people to let you down," I said, slowly emptying my glass and setting it down on the pristine, white tablecloth. "First they say one thing, then they do another."
"But people can change, right? They can get better. They can surprise you-even if they've done something to hurt you."
"Not in my experience."
Lola looked a little downcast about that, so I decided to change the subject.
"You got any brothers or sisters?"
"Two brothers. What about you?"
I didn't answer her. "Wow. Two brothers. That's a hell of a lot of carnage for one house, huh?"
"Come on, Alex."
"What?"
"I just asked you a question. About your family. And you skipped right over it."
Damn.It wasn't the first time I'd underestimated Lola. And now she was going to press me for details.
"It was just me, actually."
"And your parents?"
"My mom."
"Oh," said Lola. She nodded politely, but I could see she was thinking all kinds of things.
"Is it true you grew up in Philadelphia?"
"Hey, look," I said. "The waiter's coming."
He arrived and took our order. I asked for something high in protein, with vegetables. Lola asked for no anchovies. I looked suspiciously at her for a moment.
"No anchovies?"
"What?"
"You're kidding me, right?"
"No. I can't stand them. They're salty and fishy. Gross."
"You never tried Gabriel'sbagna caudaat work?" My head chef's anchovy sauce was legendary, and had been one of the first things reviewers picked up on when we opened.
"If anything could change my mind, it would be that, I'm sure. But they're not for me."
"I wish I could eat an anchovy pizza," I said.
"So order one."
"I can't," I said. "I have to stick to a diet while I'm training."
"Training?"
"I'm running an Iron Man Triathlon at the end of the Summer. For charity. My publicist says I need to be more likable."
"Don't you give like, millions of dollars to charity."
"Anonymously, yes. But anonymous donations don't help your public image."
"Neither does looking so grumpy all the time!" teased Lola.
I stared at her. Hard. Watched her shrink in her seat, as she blushed at the glare I was giving her.
I started to shake.
Finally, I couldn't help myself. I started to chuckle, a booming chuckle that came up from the inside of my chest.
"Sorry," I said, laughing. "I couldn't help it. Your face, I just..."
"That wasn't funny, Alex," snapped Lola, flustered.
"Now who's grumpy?" I said, and we both laughed.
Lola
I had a great time that night. If I'd thought about it for more than a second, I felt sure I would have freaked. I was sitting at the top of a skyscraper, eating a delicious linguini with fresh line-caught mackerel and a healthy sprinkling of parsley and cold-pressed olive oil. After having been flown there in a helicopter by a man I barely knew. A man who didn't even know that he was Macy's dad.
But somehow, I forgot about it that night, as we chatted in the restaurant. Alex kept the conversation light and we laughed and joked about his old days in New York. He took pride in having come from nothing, and his story impressed me. I might not be moved by money or power, but his was a true success story, of a guy working hard in order to make it to the top. And as the evening drew on, I found him more and more charming. Once you got under his stony-faced demeanor and brash nature, there was a lot to like.
I was sad when it was time to go, but I knew Macy was waiting for me. The driver who'd picked me up had dropped the Bentley at the parking lot of the building we were in. Alex opened the door and signaled for me to get in.
"You know, I could just get the tube," I said.
"Oh, come on," he growled, "don't be silly. Besides, I could use the practice. I get driven around so much these days I'm worried I'm gonna lose the knack of these streets."
"Well, I'd hate forthatto happen," I said a little bashfully, as I got into the car.
We got back to Jackson Heights at 7.50pm, exactly when I'd told Sara I'd be home.
"I had a great time tonight," I said, and I looked up at him. He looked so sexy, with one hand on the steering wheel and the other tousling his thick, dark hair.
I'd become aware of the tension-that simmering tension that penetrated the atmosphere every time we were alone together. And yet I welcomed it, allowed myself to feel the full extent. Allowed my heart to beat a little faster, and my breath to rise and fall. And Alex never pushed me, never forced me into any situation I wasn't comfortable with.
In every way, he was as respectful and polite as he could be.
And somehow, that only made me want him more.
He leaned over in the car and we kissed, and I suddenly remembered the searing, quickening warmth of his kiss, the way his mouth pressed gently against mine, the soft strands of his beard against my cheek.
But then, I thought about Macy. And I thought about my job. And I thought about a hundred other things, and suddenly, I had my hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him away.
"Alex," I said, breathing hard, flushed.