by Kitty Parker
"It was a pleasure to meet you!" he called over his shoulder.
"Sorry about Jane," I apologized, closing the door of the room behind me as we stepped out into the hall.
He smiled, and we began to walk toward the elevator. "I do not mind. She is a good friend to you, trying to protect you that way. I promise you, though, that my intentions are most gentlemanly."
The smoothness that his accent added to his words completely intoxicated me. He could have been giving a lecture about legal statutes in Wyoming and I still would have listened.
"I hadn't expected otherwise," I chuckled, pushing the "down" button. "I wouldn't have given you my address if I had taken you for a serial killer."
"Well," he replied. "My other name is Jack the Ripper. I forgot to mention that when we met."
"Did you, now?" I asked playfully, raising an eyebrow and mentally commending myself for how well I was flirting. "Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"
His dark brown eyes twinkled merrily. "Plenty."
"A man of mystery?"
"Sì. But perhaps I will share some secrets with you on our date, mia cara."
With a loud ding, the elevator doors slid open and Andreas and I stepped inside. We rode in a comfortable silence to the third floor, where the terrace was located. When we arrived, he politely held the glass door open for me as we stepped outside. I practically melted. I was a sucker for that sort of thing.
"This is a beautiful view," he commented, stepping toward the rail that separated the terrace from the tops of the surrounding trees.
I had to agree with him. From where we stood, we could see out over the Tiber River toward the western portion of the city, spread out panoramically before us. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm, orange glow over the rooftops of the buildings. In the distance, the dome of St. Peter's Basilica was silhouetted against the evening sky. It was difficult to believe that what I was looking at was real as opposed to a perfect postcard picture.
"Do you like Rome, mia passione?" Andreas inquired.
"Definitely," I answered, joining him at the rail. "It's a beautiful city."
He smiled. "I have always thought so."
"How long have you lived here?" I asked.
He bit his lip thoughtfully. "About two years, since I started university. I am from Firenze…Florence."
"Cool. My brother's actually studying there this summer." I grinned at the coincidence.
"You have a brother?"
I nodded.
Andreas's eyes twinkled. "Would he beat me up for seeing you?"
"Only if I asked him to," I chuckled.
"I should behave myself, then?"
"You should," I affirmed.
He gently took my hand in his and brought it to hips lips. "I will, mia cara."
I blushed profusely and could only hope that he wouldn't notice.
"You promised me you would sing for me, dolcezza," he reminded me, grinning. "Will you sing now?"
My blush deepened and I giggled despite myself. "Alright. Should I sing something in Italian?"
He beamed at me. "That would be nice."
I counted myself lucky that my voice teacher had made me learn a few Italian arias. Summoning one of my favorites to mind, I inhaled deeply and began, sending my voice out sailing over the rooftops of Rome.
O del mio dolce ardor
Bramato oggetto,
L'aura che tu respiri,
Alfin respiro.
O vunque il guardo io giro,
Le tue vaghe sembianze
Amore in medipinge:
Il mio pensier si finge
Le più liete speranze;
E nel desio che così
M'empie il petto
Cerco te, chiamo te, spero e sospiro.
O del mio dolce ardor
Bramato oggetto,
L'aura che tu respiri,
Alfin respiro.
Whatever I had been expecting, it certainly wasn't the applause that broke out somewhere behind me when I finished. Jumping slightly, I turned around to face my unanticipated spectator.
"How long have you been standing there, Kurt?" I questioned nervously, desperately hoping that he hadn't found out that Andreas and I were going on a date.
He shrugged. "Long enough."
Of course, he just had to be cryptic.
"This is a friend of yours, Lotte?" asked Andreas.
Kurt took it upon himself to answer for me, perhaps a bit more brusquely than I would have liked. "Yes, I am. Who are you?"
"I am Andreas," he introduced himself, extending his hand politely.
Kurt looked at the other male suspiciously. "Kurt," he replied, finally shaking Andreas's hand more firmly than was necessary. "How do you know Lotte?"
Andreas sent a smile my way. "I met her in the Piazza Navona."
"And you just decided to visit her randomly?" Kurt asked suspiciously.
"Not randomly," Andreas answered, ignoring Kurt's rudeness. "I came to set a time for our date."
As that last word left Andreas's lips, I could see the metaphorical storm clouds of an enormous fight beginning to gather. I had a sudden urge to fling myself from the terrace, though I thankfully didn't act on it.
The color drained from Kurt's face. "Date?"
"Yes," Andreas replied, somewhat confused.
Seemingly at a loss for words, Kurt stared at me in disbelief.
I almost felt the need to apologize to him. Instead, I simply turned my gaze to my feet and nodded.
There was a moment of extremely uncomfortable and tense silence.
"Alright," Kurt finally croaked. "I'll let you two work that out, then."
I lifted my head to look at him, but he had already turned his back and was quickly heading for the door. I felt my heart sink.
Turning around, I gave Andreas a small smile. "I should probably go inside, now. It's getting a bit late, and my roommates and I were going to go out for dinner."
This wasn't true in the least, of course, but Andreas didn't need to know that.
"Alright," he replied, accepting my lie. "Is tomorrow night good for our date?"
Ignoring the gnawing feeling in my stomach, I nodded. "Seven o'clock?"
He smiled. "I will pick you up in the lobby?"
"Sounds good."
Slowly, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to my cheek. "Buona notte, mia cara."
"Goodnight," I whispered as he turned around and left the terrace.
After remaining outdoors for a moment, taking a final look at the cityscape as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, I headed inside and made my way toward the elevator. A heightened sense of apprehension caused my stomach to clench uncomfortably as I considered the possibilities of Kurt's reaction to what had occurred. I had a nasty feeling that he was either going to go into a jealous rage or start ignoring me completely, neither of which I was prepared to handle. This, of course, was the reason that I hadn't wanted him to know about Andreas in the first place: someone was bound to get hurt.
I rode the elevator up to the fifth floor and followed the long hall down to my room. Unfortunately, I found that my door had been blocked by a certain disgruntled-looking male.
I trained my eyes on the elaborately designed carpet. "Kurt, can I please get into my room?"
"No," he bit out.
I flinched at his harsh tone. "Please?"
"We need to talk."
"Can we please not do it in the hallway?" I meekly requested.
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine. Give me your key."
I placed the card in his outstretched hand. Swiping it through the lock, he shoved the door open with a violent force that alarmed me. Apparently, I was not alone in my fright. Eden, Jane, Brigid, and Bryce, who had been playing a game of cards, all jumped at the sudden intrusion. They took one look at Kurt's face and quickly made themselves scarce, dashing out into the safety of the hallway. Kurt slammed the door behind them.
"Sit,
" he ordered, pointing at my bed.
I obeyed, finally lifting my eyes to meet Kurt's. They were filled with a fire I'd never seen before. I had never been particularly good at discerning the emotions in Kurt's eyes, but this one I could only interpret as fury. I shied away.
"I know you're mad at me…" I softly began.
"Mad?" he interrupted. "No, I'm beyond mad. Try livid, furious, enraged."
"Why?" I meekly squeaked, even though I knew the reason perfectly well.
"WHY!?" he thundered. "After everything that's happened, you decide to go on a date with some random Italian, and then you ask me why I'm angry!?" He began to pace. "Of course, I have no right to be angry, have I? It's not like you're my girl, right?" He let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "No, no. You're not my girl. You can date who you want. And you want him. That doesn't mean that I have to be happy about it! I mean, what the fuck did you expect, Lotte? For you to just come waltzing over to me, tell me you're going out with some fucktard named Andreas, and for me to fucking congratulate you?"
"I wasn't going to tell you," I murmured. "I didn't want you to know, cause I knew you wouldn't like it."
"And that makes all the difference, does it?" he retorted. "What Kurt doesn't know won't hurt him, right?"
A tear began to slowly trickle down my cheek, and I could feel many more waiting to gush out behind it. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"You hurt me every day!" he roared. "I practically live with a fucking mask of happiness plastered to my face!"
The dams broke. I began to sob.
"You have no idea what I go through! How long I… How much I…Why I… FUCK!" He violently knocked the phone off of the desk that sat at the side of the room. It clattered noisily on the floor, the receiver becoming displaced and the dial tone issuing from it.
Startled, I let out a small shriek, causing him to focus his gaze on me. By this point, I was absolutely petrified. Angry Kurt was unpredictable.
"Fuck," he cursed. "Now I've gone and made you cry." He came to my side and reached out a hand. I automatically jerked away from his touch, staring at him fearfully, as though he were a cobra poised to strike.
"And you're afraid of me, too," he noted bitterly, shaking his head.
I calmed down a bit, reminding myself that Kurt would never actually do physical harm to me. "No, I'm not," I managed to croak, my voice wavering slightly as I continued to cry.
"Please don't cry, Lotte," he begged, kneeling on the floor in front of me, cupping my face in his hands, and attempting to wipe my tears away with the pads of this thumbs. "I can't stand it when you cry."
I wanted to comply with his request, but the waterworks simply wouldn't shut off.
Kurt hung his head. "I'm a total jackass, aren't I?"
Not knowing whether or not this was supposed to be a rhetorical question, I made an effort to assure him that I thought otherwise. "N-no, you're n-not," I hiccupped.
"Yes I am," he insisted, continuing his fruitless effort to rid my face of tears. "I just spent the last ten minutes yelling at you for going on a date. I'm a jackass."
I shook my head, dislodging his hands, which he then placed on my shoulders. "No. It's my - hic - fault. I should have - hic - told you about - hic - Andreas."
I could feel Kurt tense at the mention of the name. "I don't like him, Lotte. I can't stop you from seeing him, though - that's your choice."
Silently, I nodded, staring once again at the floor.
He put a finger under my chin and gently lifted it up until my eyes met his. "Just be careful, alright? And if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass."
I allowed the ghost of a smile to grace my features.
He gave me a small smile in return, though it seemed pained and forced.
"Are you still mad at me, Kurt?" I asked quietly.
He shook his head. "No. I could never stay mad at you, Lotte. Yeah, I'm still upset, but I'm not mad at you." Lifting his hands to my face once again, he tenderly wiped the last of my tears away. "I'm sorry for blowing up at you like that. It kills me that I made you cry."
"You didn't mean to," I reasoned.
"But I did," he insisted.
I placed a hand on his shoulder in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture. "It's alright. Don't worry about it."
Nodding, he stood, and I followed suit. Slowly, tentatively, he pulled me into a hug, almost as though he were expecting me to shove him away. I didn't. Instead, I wrapped my arms around him, assuring him that I bore him no ill will. He held me in his comforting embrace for what felt like forever, even though it couldn't have been longer than thirty seconds.
Finally, he dropped a quick kiss on the top of my head, surprising me slightly. "I should go," he murmured. "I'll see you later."
"See you," I whispered, secretly wishing that he would stay as he opened the door and disappeared down the hallway.
* * *
When the phone (which Eden had returned to its spot on the desk the previous night) rang at 6:55 PM on Tuesday, July thirty-first, I positively flew across the room to pick it up.
"Hello?" I answered, a note of nervousness (with a slight touch of panic) in my voice.
"Alberto!" screeched a high-pitched voice on the other end. "Hai lasciato il forno suche cazzo!"
"Um…" I trailed off. "I, er, think you have the wrong number."
"Chi sei!? Perché hai il telefono di Alberto?"
"Wrong number. Er, wrongo numero," I attempted pathetically. "Non Alberto."
"Vaffanculo!"
There was a loud click as the woman on the other end hung up.
"Was that your date, Lottiekins?" teased Jane, poking her head out of the bathroom.
I shook my head. "Nah, it was some woman screaming in Italian about some guy named Alberto."
As Jane had a laugh about my bizarre pseudo-conversation, the phone rang once again. Just as I had before, I dashed over to it and picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"This is-e the front desk," announced a man with a heavy Italian accent. "May I speak-e to Signora Leisch?"
"Sì,speaking," I answered, trying to remain calm.
"There is-e a giovane by-e the name of Andreas here for you."
My heart began to pound. "Grazie. I'll be down in a moment." Nervously, I replaced the receiver. "Guys, I'm going down to the lobby," I announced.
"Is he here?" asked Brigid eagerly, sitting bolt upright on her bed.
I nodded. "Yeah, he's waiting for me downstairs."
"This calls for a pre-date lecture!" Jane declared, popping out of the bathroom and shoving me into a chair so that she had the advantage of height. She looked me seriously in the eye. "If you have sex, you will get pregnant and die."
The anxiety that had been eating at me was immediately replaced by peals of laughter at the sheer irony of what Jane had said. I supposed that she had been aiming for just such a result.
"Just use a condom," Brigid advised.
"Hey!" I protested. "I'm not an easy lay!"
She simply giggled in response.
Rolling my eyes at my moronic (but lovable) friends, I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.
Eden stopped me before I got out. "Want a pre-date hug?"
I grinned. "Definitely."
She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a tight, reassuring squeeze. It was exactly what I needed, and Eden knew that. I felt a surge of affection and appreciation for my best friend at that moment, and I considered how incredibly lucky I was to have a bond with someone that was so strong and meaningful.
Giving my friends a final wave goodbye, I headed for the stairwell. It only went down to the second floor, but from there, a large, elegant marble staircase led to the lobby. It certainly provided a much better entrance opportunity than simply stepping out of the elevator, and my inner Disney princess (who only came out on special occasions) felt the need to take advantage of the situation.
As I reached the second floor and made my way to the top of the marble steps,
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I noticed Andreas standing patiently by the small fountain (featuring, of all things, a cupid-like figure sending a long stream of spit into the bowl surrounding him) that stood in the middle of the room and gave him a warm smile. He sent me a charming grin of his own as I slowly began to descend, praying fervently that I wouldn't trip and roll down the stairs instead. Luck was thankfully on my side.
"You look absolutely stunning, mia cara," Andreas greeted me warmly, extending his hand to me as I reached the bottom.
Though I blushed slightly, I mentally applauded myself for my tasteful choice of a forest green top, black heels, and my favorite black and white polka-dot skirt (ironically the same skirt that had moved Kurt to inform me that the sixties had thrown up on me). "Grazie. You don't look too bad yourself."
He didn't, either. Dressed in a crisp white shirt, dark-wash jeans, dress shoes, and a black blazer, he looked positively delicious. While taking in his appearance, I zoned out, contemplating the validity of the stereotype that Italians were incredibly adept at the art of romance. I could only hope that it would prove true during the course of the evening.
"You are staring, mia cara," Andreas notified me, clearly amused.
"Oh!" I squeaked, startled and slightly mortified. "Sorry."
"Do not apologize," he chuckled warmly. He then brought his face closer to mine. "I enjoy it when you stare at me," he added in a low, husky voice that made my legs turn to jelly.
I decided to end the sexually-charged moment before I melted into a puddle of goo that the hotel staff would have to clean off of the tiled floor with a mop. "Er, shall we go, then?"
"We shall," he confirmed, offering me his arm.
Grinning, I looped my arm through his and we made our way out of the hotel through the large, revolving front door. We turned left, and Andreas led me down the street a bit before stopping in front of a dark blue Vespa.
"I hope you do not mind this…" he trailed off uncertainly.
I, however, could not have been more excited. "Not at all. I've always wanted to ride one of these."
He beamed at me. "Really? That is wonderful, mia bella. Here…" He handed me a black helmet, then shoved one identical to it onto his own head and climbed onto the bike.