Page 4 of Until You Came Along
“Sounds good to me.”
“Give me your phone number so we can text each other and coordinate,” he asked, very cheerfully.
We exchanged numbers and then he left as happily as he had arrived. I was clear that nothing sexual would happen with him, but for some reason, I felt that Baco was going to be significant in my life.
Later I cleaned the apartment and then went to the supermarket to do some shopping. I prepared a light lunch formyself and after resting for a while, I headed to the gym for a workout.
I got home around seven in the evening and, as I was taking my phone out of my gym bag, I saw I had a message from Baco.
“Shall I pick you up and we have dinner out?”
My response:
“Do you like pizza? I know a place that makes exquisite ones and plays good music”
His response:
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at nine”
At nine I was ready to go out to dinner with my new neighbor. To tell the truth, even though I had just met him, I didn’t feel uncomfortable. I sensed that I was going to have a pleasant time.
For my look, I opted for straight-cut, high-waisted white pants paired with a black halter-neck sleeveless bodysuit. For footwear, I had chosen strappy high-heeled sandals. I put on a little makeup and left my hair loose.
A few minutes after nine, I heard a knock at the door. When I opened it, I was struck by how good Baco looked. He was wearing black jeans and a white shirt and really looked very handsome.
“I won’t invite you in because I’m already ready,” I said, as I stepped out and closed the door.
“Let me tell you that you look beautiful,” he complimented.
“Thank you, you look handsome too.”
“If you want, we can reconsider this friendship thing,” he suggested, with that smile that was made to charm.
“Don’t start or we’ll cancel the outing,” I warned.
“Alright, let’s stick with the friendship plans,” he said, rolling his eyes but still smiling.
“Do you feel like walking? The place I mentioned isn’t far from here and the night is beautiful, ideal for walking along the promenade.”
“As you said, a very romantic night.”
I gave him another serious look and he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“It’s just a little joke, I love it when you get defensive.”
As we walked, we talked a lot about me. He asked about my family, my work, and especially about the things I liked to do. When we arrived at “Napoletana,” we were assigned a table on the large terrace and ordered the small pizza I suggested and a couple of beers. At that moment, “Blinding Lights” by The Weeknd was playing.
“Tell me a bit about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?” he asked, as he brought the bottle to his mouth for a long sip of beer.
“What do you do? What’s your job?”
“Starting with the thorny subject,” he said, while I looked at him with surprise and he sighed as if gathering strength to begin. “I work in the family business, which my older brother is in charge of. It’s an international company dedicated to construction. As I said, it’s run by my brother, but I’m also obligated to work there.”
“Obligated?”
“This will be our first secret,” he said, and it was the first time since I’d met him that his gaze seemed to sadden. “I work there because I have no choice. My brother doesn’t approve of me doing anything else. He took charge when my father died and believes we both should dedicate ourselves to the familybusiness. It’s not my thing, but I can’t say I’m doing terribly either.”
