Page 77 of Out of the Gold

Wrapping my arm around her, we walk up to the hostess stand and are escorted to a seat right by oversized windows overlooking the town square and its fountain. She leaves us with menus, written in Italian. I flip it over, but the wine list also is in Italian.

I toss my menu on the table. “Can you read any of this?”

She shakes her head and puts her menu down as well. “We’ll just have to wing it.”

Our server comes and says something in Italian. Clearing my throat, I respond for both of us. “My girlfriend and I don’t speak Italian. Do you speak English?”

“Ah, welcome, welcome. I don’t, ah, speak English so well. Cush take you over for me. Drink?” He mimes as if he were drinking from a glass.

“We’ll take a bottle of your best pinot noir.”

“Pinot noir,sì. I will go to get it for you both.”

He leaves and Melody grins at me. “He’s cute.”

I pretend to be affronted. “Hey. You’re not supposed to comment about another guy to your boyfriend.”

She giggles. “Not as hot as you, of course.” She bats her eyelashes at me. Then giggles some more, ending with a snort. “Oh my God. I’m so embarrassed.”

“Karma. Such a wonderful bitch.”

She gives me the evil eye. Or, rather, tries to, but it’s way too adorable to be effective. A new server, Cush, interrupts us. He presents a bottle, which I taste. Damn. That’s good. When I nod, he pours two glasses.

“Your prior server, Angelo, asked me to help him here, since I am more familiar with English.” He looks from me to Melody, then his eyes swing back to my face. Shit. Guess he recognized me. In a dramatic fashion, he places his hand over his heart. “Signor Wright, we are so honored you selected our restaurant.”

I pull off my cap and toss it onto an empty chair. No need for it now. “Prego, Cush.”

He beams at my use of his name and fiddles with his notebook. “What can I offer for your dining pleasure?”

Melody jumps in, diverting his attention. “I’d like some pasta. With a red sauce. And some meat.” She eyes me up and down, and my body responds to her unspoken offer.

The waiter scribbles on his pad and turns to me. “I’ll have a pizza. With lots of cheese and . . . broiled chicken.” I stifle a grimace.

“Spaghetti and pizza, I will bring right out.” He heads off toward the kitchen.

I look out the window to check out the town square, where several people have gathered. A small group turns some plastic buckets upside down and they begin dancing and banging on the makeshift drums. We watch as the group does intricate steps.

“I’m surprised to see such a routine out here, away from the city.”

“I was thinking the same thing. Maybe it’s a festival?”

A few minutes later, the group disperses as quickly as they started. Their enthusiasm was contagious. I find myself tapping my foot to the music playing in the restaurant. “Want to dance?”

Melody turns her head from right to left. She leans forward. “Hate to break it to you, big guy. There’s no dance floor.”

“Who needs one?” I stand and hold out my hand. “Dance with me, Goldie.”

Slowly, she takes my hand. I lead her through some simple dance moves around empty tables.

“Where did you learn how to dance like this?”

I dip her low. “I’ve always loved to dance.” I bring her back upright and resume the proper dance hold. “But I had some formal training for a movie I did a few years ago.”

“Nice.”

Our waiter stands to the side, watching us enjoy ourselves. I lean to her ear. “I think dinner’s almost here. We can pick this up later. Naked.”

“You.” She taps my chest.

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