by Anna Premoli
The two of them thanked her and started walking along the corridor until they reached the bathroom that was reserved for adult members of staff.
“Well she wasn’t joking about getting dirty…” Amalia started moaning, once they were alone. “They always get you dirty. And they did it on purpose. It was as if they’d been really looking forward to doing it, in fact,” she complained, as she inspected her clothes more closely.
Ryan started washing his hands with a generous amount of soap. “Of course they did it on purpose! They’re children, aren’t they?”
“My secretary was totally right. All children are actually little demons in disguise,” she snarled.
Ryan pulled her towards him by her shirt, took her filthy hands and held them under the water, since he had left the tap running. The he squeezed some more soap out of the dispenser and started washing them. “All you need to do is wash, you’ll feel much better afterwards.”
Amalia was almost hypnotized, she just couldn’t stop watching their hands, entwined in the stream of water, and she felt her cheeks slowly starting to turn red. Her heart started beating crazily and her mouth went completely dry. What was happening to her was ridiculous: she couldn’t suddenly go all soft and gooey simply because he was touching her hands. She turned her head to look at him at the exact moment he turned his to her, and she found herself staring into his piercing eyes. They were extremely beautiful, she had to admit unwillingly. And so were his lips – perfectly designed.
Ryan was going through the same thought processes: he was observing her, looking at her expressive deep blue eyes and then her mouth, small but with ripe, red lips.
“Is this as embarrassing for you as it is for me?” he asked, in an attempt to relieve the tension that had flared up between them.
She decided to answer by just nodding, as she wasn’t entirely sure what might emerge from her mouth at that particular moment if she risked speech.
“I guess we should let go of each other’s hands,” Ryan said, laughing nervously.
But Amalia didn’t move. She just stood there looking at him.
“Ok, I’m going to let go now,” Ryan warned her, and did nothing. “I guess I might be having some problems in actually letting your hands go – any chance you could help me, please?” he asked, looking at her lips.
“Not if you keep looking at me like that,” she breathed.
“What way am I looking at you?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Are you planning to act or aren’t you?” she asked abruptly. “Because this time I have no intention of being the one to back off.”
“Amalia, you’re not making things easy for me…” he admitted in a hoarse voice.
“I don’t recall that being one of my duties. In fact, I think that I’m supposed to do the exact opposite,” she whispered softly.
Ryan closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he cursed. Finally he took her face in his hands and put his lips on hers.
Contrary to what had happened the first time, neither of them was surprised, and Amalia immediately opened her mouth to welcome that impetuous kiss. After a few moments, Ryan pulled away, but only because he wanted to hold her waist more firmly and continue kissing her even more passionately than before. His were deep, hungry kisses; the kisses of a man who really desired her, she thought, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect next.
She hadn’t imagined that Ryan would have kissed her so impulsively. She didn’t know why, but she had always thought he was a very calm, composed person, but now he seemed to have totally lost his self-control, and all of this was happening in a kindergarten toilet… not exactly the most appropriate place for making out with such ardour.
Very unwillingly, Amalia tried to pull her lips away from Ryan’s, hoping it would give him the chance to start breathing again and get the oxygen he needed to start thinking straight. “We’re in a kindergarten,” she reminded him, raising a finger to touch her lips, which had gone through quite an ordeal thanks to all those intense kisses.
“What?” he mumbled. His mind was clearly still foggy.
“We’re in a kindergarten, Ryan,” she repeated patiently. “You know, those places full of children who could just pop through the door at any moment, not to mention teachers who would have a panic attack if they saw what we’re doing? It’s a kindergarten!”
He blinked a couple of times and ran his hand through his hair, completely ruining his carefully-styled hairdo. Then he went back to the tap and splashed some cold water on his face.
“Damn it. I really can’t believe it,” he said, talking mainly to himself. “I must have gone out of my mind. I must have just totally lost it…”
He straightened up and turned round to observe Amalia. “Listen, we have got to stop… exciting each other like this. And you have to help me,” he said imperiously.
“How?” she asked, a profoundly dubious expression on her face.
“You have to steer clear of me. You have to keep really far away from me,” he begged her.
Seeing him looking so confused, she almost felt sorry for him.
“Hmm, ok. But can I do a little experiment?” she asked. She didn’t even wait for his answer, but just lifted herself up on tiptoes and put her lips close to his, without touching them. Ryan breathed in deeply, then grabbed the nape of her neck with one hand and pushed their lips together.
“Ryan!” Amalia exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to start you off again!”
“Neither did I…” he said, raising his eyes up to the ceiling.
“I was only curious to see if it would trigger that ‘je ne sais quoi’ or not,” she explained.
He looked at her doubtfully.
“And what the kind of experiment was that supposed to be?”
“A very simple one: if you can be so close to another person without giving in to the temptation of kissing them, you’re totally safe.”
“And what happens if you can’t help kissing them?” Ryan asked anxiously.
“In that case, you’re in serious trouble,” Amalia answered, trying to take the revelation lightly.
“How serious?”
“Ryan, use your imagination. I said ‘serious’ because that’s exactly what I meant: serious.”
15
On arriving back home from the kindergarten, Ryan did something he had previously sworn to himself he would never do, not under any circumstances: he had taken out his phone, called his mother’s number and begged her to arrange a meeting with any of the girls she had ‘selected’ for him. His only conditions were: the girl couldn’t be a lawyer and the appointment had to be as soon as possible.
His mother, poor thing, had refrained from asking questions and had immediately started organising a blind date for the following day; the person she had chosen was a very pretty girl called Ireland, a twenty-eight year old interior designer. She thought that at the very least she could hope for a positive outcome in that her son’s apartment really was in need of some serious attention. Apart from the girl’s name, which sounded a tad excessive even for someone of Irish origins, the only thing wrong with the whole situation was the place where the date was actually going to take place: his parents’ bar. His mother had apologized, saying that she just couldn’t come up with anything better, given how urgent it was. But she had given Ryan the girl’s phone number – that way they could choose a different location if he wanted. Ryan, though, couldn’t think of anything more stressful than calling Ireland on the phone, so he had resigned himself to meeting her at the family’s bar, which was at the corner between Third and Twentieth and almost hidden from the street. He was there at nine thirty sharp, as agreed.
He had asked Niel to go with him, since Niel sometimes helped Finn, his brother, who was the full-time manager of the pub, having already taken over their parents’ place a few years earlier. As one would expect, though, that evening the whole family had assembled behind the bar. Even Kieran had found time to come and t
ease him.
“God, they’re really all here,” he complained to Niel.
“Well, what did you expect? You must have known there was a good chance they would be. If you wanted more privacy, you should have gone somewhere else for your date.”
Ryan hated having to admit that his brother was right.
“Yeah – looks like I really asked for it.”
Niel tapped his shoulder. “Come on, let’s have a drink to that. Mum, Dad, Finn, Kieran – good evening everybody.”
“I see you’re here too. You just couldn’t miss the show, could you?” Ryan’s younger brother asked.
“Why would I? What, am I not allowed to enjoy all the fun like everybody else? Hey, I’ve got every right to take part in this momentous event – I am a member of this family too, you know!” he joked.
“In that case, what are you waiting for? Come out from behind the counter – from here you have an almost perfect view of all the tables!” Kieran told him.
Niel shook his head and started looking around the bar, which was almost full, as it was every evening. Their clientele was predominantly relaxed looking people, not really the trendy types – more the type of people who knew how to enjoy a good pint of Guinness and a chat and didn’t really appreciate useless frills.
Ryan was sitting at the bar with his back to the entrance, so he didn’t see the four people enter. But Niel saw them very well, and he opened his eyes wide in wonder before bursting into delighted laughter. He turned back towards Ryan, who was having a beer.
“Brother, I’m getting a feeling that this might really be your lucky evening,” he said cryptically.
Ryan looked back at him grimly.
“What do you know that I don’t?” he snapped immediately.
*
Niel couldn’t stop laughing. “Me? What would I know?”
“Yeah, you, asshole. What the hell are you laughing about? Has this famous girl already turned up without me realizing?” he asked, peering around the room. Suddenly, his eyes paused on the four people Niel had seen entering the bar not long before, who were now sitting at one of the tables at the back of the room. Ryan couldn’t avoid closing his eyes for a moment and swearing in a way he wasn’t supposed to. His mother scolded him immediately.
“I don’t believe it,” he mumbled. “Is this your doing?” he asked Niel in a threatening tone. His brother was still trying to stop laughing.
“I had absolutely nothing to do with it!” his brother protested, with his eyes full of tears. “Trust me, I don’t think she’s even realized you’re here!”
Truth be told, it appeared that Niel was right: Amalia had entered the bar and walked through it without even noticing him. Ryan had the strange sensation that something really unpleasant was happening in his stomach. He chose to blame the meat pie he had eaten just an hour before. Despite his best intentions, he turned to look at Amalia and Kayla again, who were accompanied by two dandies… Two of those men who are always trying so very hard to show off. They were sitting peacefully at their table, completely oblivious to his presence.
“Who are those guys?” Niel asked him, having decided to go on about it until his brother completely lost his mind.
“How the hell would I know?” was Ryan’s grouchy answer, before he resumed staring at the scene. Kayla seemed to be glued to the guy at her side, while Amalia was trying rather ineffectively to keep the idiot sitting next to her at a safe distance.
“Who are those people?” Finn asked.
“Nobody you’re interested in,” Ryan answered, just as Niel said “Amalia.”
At the sound of that name, the many members of the O’Moore family turned to stare at her.
“Will you all stop looking at her, for God’s sake?” Ryan asked them angrily. But nobody paid him any attention… That was nothing new, but after all these years he was out of practice.
“Is it the blonde one?” Kieran asked Niel, who confirmed it by nodding his head ostentatiously. “Of course, I knew it would be! – she looks like a pain in the ass, so perfect for Ryan’s tastes.”
Ryan lifted his head with a sudden movement and frowned at his brother. “On the contrary – I don’t like her at all,” he grunted slowly.
Exactly at that moment, a lovely red-haired girl approached the counter. “Good evening. Are you Mrs O’Moore?” the girl asked Ryan’s mother timidly.
“Ireland?” she answered immediately.
“Yeah, that’s me,” she confirmed, taking her gloves off and unbuttoning her coat.
“Oh my dear girl, I’m so happy to meet you. You aunt’s told me so many wonderful things about you.”
The girl blushed instantly. “Oh, my aunty’s always saying ridiculously nice things about me, she goes way over the top. But, please, don’t tell her I said that!”
Mrs O’Moore gave her a friendly smile.
“Well, my dear, these are my sons: Kieran, Finn, Niel and Ryan, of course.”
When he heard his name, Ryan bit the bullet, stood up and introduced himself properly.
“Hello,” he said, offering her his hand. She took it with some hesitation, unable to control her growing embarrassment. Those first five seconds were more than enough for Ryan to realize that such a shy girl would never be able to stand her ground against him. But he had put her and himself in that grotesque situation, and now he had no choice but to go through with it. “Shall we sit somewhere?” he asked gallantly, gesturing to a small table near the counter. He pretended not to have realized that by sitting at that particular table he would be able to watch Amalia. From the corner of his eye, he was able to see that his brother Finn had approached the Fab Four and asked for their orders. He was so busy eavesdropping that he didn’t hear Ireland asking him something.
“Pardon me?” he said, feeling somewhat guilty.
“I said: so you’re an Assistant District Attorney, right?” she repeated. He clearly made her nervous.
“Erm yes, I am. What about you?” he asked, forcing himself to focus his attention on her.
“I’m an interior designer,” she said proudly.
At that point, they had said everything that they already knew about each other.
“That’s great. You know, I think I really need an interior designer’s help with my apartment. I really don’t have time to go shopping for furniture.”
She smiled at him very gently, but it was obvious that he had just said something inappropriate. Ireland hadn’t come there to talk about work. In any case, she pretended that everything was fine and took one of her business cards from her bag and gave it to him.
“Here, so you can call me when you need to talk about your apartment.”
The message couldn’t have been clearer. Ryan took a breath, searching for some inspiration to pick up the conversation again. He tried very hard not to, but he couldn’t resist it: he raised his eyes and looked over Ireland’s shoulder, towards the table where his brother had just taken a tray with four beers. So Amalia did drink beer, he thought. Since when?
“Is there anything wrong?” Ireland asked, turning her head too.
“No, nothing at all,” Ryan answered quickly. But the girl had already seen what Ryan was looking at.
“Are they friends of yours?” she asked, observing the scene.
“No, one of the girls is an… an acquaintance of mine,” he answered, feeling uncomfortable. He was even starting to sweat.
“Would you like to go over and say ‘hi’ to her?” she proposed, maybe hoping that by doing so he would quit that stupid behavior quickly.
“Absolutely not, there’s really no need to go over there and say ‘hi’…” he said anxiously. “Let’s just think about ourselves.” Luckily for him, right at that moment Finn came over for their orders.
“So what can I get you, guys?” he asked in a friendly voice. Ryan reflected on how good his brother was at interacting with people. Ireland asked for a fruit juice, while Ryan asked for another Guinness. After that, they were alone
again, and with nothing to talk about.
“So, do you like working for the District Attorney?” she asked, clearly desperate to make conversation.
Ryan was so ashamed of himself that he wished he could just vanish.
“Yes, I do. I like it a lot,” he answered like an imbecile, not knowing what else to add. They spent another thirty seconds in silence, and then he suddenly stood up from his chair.
“Can you excuse me for a moment? I must make a phone call,” he told her. He found Niel and pleaded with him: “I really need some fresh air, and this thing is not going well at all. Could you be a pal and entertain her for five minutes? Please?”
Niel gave him a vaguely compassionate smile, but decided to co-operate. “Of course. I’m quite happy to have a chat with a beautiful woman. Pity that the same can’t be said about you…”
Ryan grunted in acknowledgement and then headed off for the restroom to find temporary refuge. Some cold water on his face might help, he thought. Anyway, it couldn’t go any worse than it already was doing. He would have liked to be able to say that walking past the bar he resisted the temptation to glance at Amalia one last time.
But, although an expert at denying the obvious, he couldn’t deny that.
“So you’re a lawyer, right?” Jack asked her again, for the second time in ten minutes. And he asked in exactly the same tone and wearing exactly the same hideous smile as before. Kayla would be paying her back for that terrible evening for a long time, thought Amalia.
“Yes, still. I haven’t changed jobs since the last time you asked,” she answered. She was perfectly aware she sounded like a bitch, but enough was enough.
As she expected, he didn’t react at all. Men like him would never fight back. They wouldn’t even notice the sarcasm, as so little information ever reached their brains. And people still speculated about how bitchy women could be, she thought. Amalia would have really liked to ask these people to spend some time with men like these, just to see how they would behave in her shoes.