Page 8 of A Winter in New York

She held the gelato up and studied it. “Am I about to have my mind blown?”

Santo watched as she dug the translucent lime-green spoon into the tub and took a huge mouthful. No half measures for this girl—he’d realized that much last night as he’d watched her perform, and then again afterward when she made fast work of her slice of pie and most of his too. Life at full tilt was not a pace he was accustomed to, and he’d been in a constant, joyful tailspin ever since she’d taken his hand in the club last night. He watched with pleasure as her eyes rounded and she came to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk.

“Bloody hell! Santo,” she gasped, then laughed, delighted. “You were right. Flood the city with this stuff, New York needs you.”

He shrugged, thrilled that she loved it. “I told you it was the best.”

She ate another huge spoonful, then held some out to him.

“I already know what it tastes like,” he said, laughing and shaking his head.

“Yeah, but not when I feed it to you,” she smiled, holding it out with her head on one side.

Santo saw the challenge in her blue eyes, the intoxicating boldness of her, and after a moment of hesitation leaned down and took the gelato from the spoon. She slid it slowly out of his mouth and watched him swallow.

“Well?”

“I didn’t think our secret recipe could be improved on,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “And now?”

“Now I know there’s one thing in the world that makes it even better,” he said slowly, enjoying her answering smile.

“You’re cute, Santo Belotti,” she said.

He felt a flush climb his neck. No girl had ever called him cute in his entire life, and his name sounded brand new in her English accent.

“Want to go see a movie?” he said.

“Now? In the afternoon?”

“Sure, why not?”

She frowned. “I don’t know,” she said. “Because movies are for best?”

“For best? You mean, like, for a special occasion?” Santo laughed, surprised. “Movies are for any time.”

He noticed clouds cross her eyes as she thrust the half-eaten gelato back into his hand. “Maybe for you.”

“And today, for you too,” he said, trying to understand what he’d got wrong. “My treat.”

“Can we watchSt. Elmo’s Fire?” she said.

He pretended to deliberate, even though he was always going to say yes. He’d have watched paint dry for the chance to sit beside Viv in the cinema for a couple of hours.

“As long as we can get popcorn.”

She wrinkled her nose in the way he was already coming to recognize as one of her little quirks. “Go on, then, you’re on.”

—

Neither Viv nor Santopaid much attention to the movie. Santo spent most of the time sneaking sidelong glances at Viv, wondering how he could have known her for less than twenty-four hours but feel as if he’d known her forever. Viv spent the time trying to follow the story but also wondering if Santo was experiencing the same burgeoning, awkward,delicious feelings in his body as she was in hers. She couldn’t say what it was about the boy that drew her to him; he exuded an aura of serenity she wanted to bask in, like spending a lazy summer Sunday afternoon floating on your back in the shallows of the Med with the sun toasting your limbs. Not that she’d ever been to the Mediterranean. She’d never been farther than London until Louis, the most unlikely of fairy godmothers, had offered her a golden ticket to perform on grubby stages across the United States. She’d had casual boyfriends in London, but Santo was the first person she’d ever connected with like this, instantly and out of nowhere, and as Emilio Estevez dipped Andi MacDowell backward to kiss her in the snow, she turned to him and found him watching her.

“I think I might love you, Santo Belotti,” she said, startling them both, and then she leaned in and kissed him over the unfeasibly large bucket of popcorn. Neither of them saw anything else that happened up on the screen, they were too wrapped up in breathless, trembling first kisses and the swooping, exquisite wonder of first love.

—

They bought warm pretzelsfrom a street cart outside the movie theater for a buck each, pulling them apart with their fingers as they reeled along the busy sidewalk.

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