Page 7 of Better Than Gelato (Ciao Bella #1)
“He said he thinks she’s pretty and wonders if she is free for lunch,” he whispers back.
“Thanks,” I lean back in my seat.
The man and the woman are standing now, and she starts singing. Her voice is high and loud. She says she would love to go to lunch with him, but first she has to get her teeth checked. Hmm. That seems weird .
The two walk down the cobblestone path, singing a lovely duet. The song finishes and they climb into the gondola of a Ferris wheel.
The young man leans in and brushes some hair away from her face. Then he starts to sing about how all his life he’s dreamed of finding the right cheese. She’s nodding her head like she’s had the same problem. I think I’ve missed something.
“Paolo,” I whisper again. “Why has he been searching for cheese his whole life?”
Paolo, who has just taken a sip of water, snorts half of it out of his nose. There’s a lot of coughing and sniffing mixed with laughter.
“Not formaggio ,” he says. “ Por algo . He hasn’t been searching for cheese his whole life, he’s been searching for something his whole life.” He narrows his eyes. “You’re not understanding much of this are you?”
I think about faking it, but instead say, “Nope.”
“Okay,” he says, smiling and leaning in. “Let me tell you what is happening so far.”
We spend the rest of the play this way, leaning close and whispering back and forth.
It should feel romantic, but instead, it feels like girls camp when the counselors turned the lights off and me and Maggie stay up talking.
It feels like friendship, in the best way.
By the time the lights come up, something easy and wonderful has settled into place between us.
Paolo takes me by the arm and escorts me to his car.
A September moon hangs low and bright in the sky and the air is just starting to smell like fall.
The trip home goes by too quickly and when Paolo turns the car off, instead of getting out, I say, “Tell me about all the great things to do in Milan.”
“Well, there’s some good shopping, as you’ve seen,” Paolo says. “Eating is a favorite pastime in this city. There are art museums and lovely parks. Two weekends ago, Carmen dragged us to some hiking trails outside the city.”
I can’t picture Paolo hiking. “How was that?”
“Not my favorite,'' he says. “But sometimes you just go along with the group. They love hiking. Valentina had on these big old hiking boots and a truly terrible hat.”
I think about when Paolo mentioned Valentina on her bike. I try to remember Paolo interacting with her at the opera and Calypso. My gut is filling in some gaps.
“So you’re in love with Valentina, huh?”
Paolo’s eyes go wide, and his body goes still. “What? No, I’m not. That’s crazy.”
“How long?” I ask.
There’s a pause. “A year.” He sighs. “But it feels like a lifetime.”
“Did you ask me on this date to make her jealous?” I ask, turning to face him squarely.
“No, I truly wanted to get to know you,” he says.
I give him a look.
“I announced we were going on a date to make Valentina jealous. That’s just taking advantage of the good timing.”
I groan and elbow him in the ribs. “Paolo!”
“I’ve been in love with the same girl for a year, to no avail! When a lovely American distraction comes strolling into my life, of course I’m going to ask her out.”
I make a harrumph sound.
“Are you saying you wish I hadn’t asked you out?” he asks.
“No,” I concede. “I had a wonderful time.”
“Like a great time with your best pal?” he asks. His eyes lock on mine like he already knows the answer.
I pause. “Yes,” I finally admit.
Now it’s Paolo’s turn to groan. “I knew it.”
“Sorry,” I tell him. “You remind me of my best friend Maggie from home.”
“Oh, does she pick you up in an Armani suit and take you to a private suite at the theater?” he asks, waving his arms a bit.
“No,” I say. “She does not. But she makes me laugh, and she’s easy to talk to, and she makes me feel like I can be myself.”
“Fine,” Paolo says with a huff. “You and I will be friends, and I will remain hopelessly in love with Valentina.”
“Maybe things with Valentina aren’t hopeless,” I say. “Does she have any idea how you feel?”
“No. Probably. I don’t know! She’s an enigma wrapped in a puzzle surrounded by mystery.” He sighs again. “My attempts at wooing her have been wildly unsuccessful.”
“What have you tried?” I ask.
“Okay, so far, I’ve tried nothing. Because I’m a coward.”
“You’re a very good-looking coward, if that helps,” I say.
Paolo’s hand goes to his hair. “It does. Thank you.”
“Well, I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to. But as your new best friend , I advise you to ask her out.”
“I think I may regret becoming best friends with you,” he grumbles.
“Too late!” I say, “It’s already done, no take backs.”
Paolo walks me to my door and kisses me on the cheek.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Juliet,” he says.
“Right back at you, Bestie,” I say.
Paolo shakes his head and turns around. “You are definitely not calling me that.”
“Too much?” I ask.
“Way too much,” he says.
I ride the elevator up to my apartment, humming the whole time. This date did not go the way I thought it would. It went even better.