He basically looked at Gio and said, perfect Christmas gift for my child.
I have no idea what face I'm making, but it's definitely not professional. He twists around in his chair and shouts into the café, "Allegra! Come here a second!"
Gio freezes slightly. "Uh—"
"You got a girlfriend?" the man asks, smiling wide.
Gio hesitates. "No, but I'm—"
"Perfect!" the guy cuts him off. "She's here alone, bored out of her mind. I've got meetings all day. Why don't you take her for a spin around the city? Show her a little Spain. Who knows, maybe I'll end up being your father-in-law, eh?"
I choke on my water. It goes down the wrong way and I start hacking my lungs out, bending forward like I'm fighting for my life.
No one even pats my back.
I'm just there, publicly malfunctioning. Lorenzo is trying not to choke on his water from laughing.
And what do we do? We actually take her. Of course we do.
Allergy girl is now officially part of the squad. Because God forbid we ruin our reputation and say no thanks, we don't want to babysit your horny daughter while you talk numbers.
No.
We have to be the good boys. The charming gentlemen.
Give me a break.
Now we're stuck dragging her around Spain like a bonus side mission. Lorenzo is on my left, Gio somewhere in the middle, and she, Allegra, keeps pace like she's always been part of this crew. She wasn't.
She didn't fit, no matter how much her expensive sunglasses and designer boots try to convince me otherwise.
"So," she says, "what are we doing now?"
We're ditching you and going home. Sounds good to me.
Lorenzo, ever the diplomat, turns to her with a polite smile. "What doyouwant to do?"
She tilts her head. "I don't know." Then she turns fully to Gio. "What doyouwant to do?"
Of course. Of course she playsthatcard.
I drift closer to Lorenzo, annoyed. "She's so smooth with it," I say, deadpan.
He snorts. "'I'm desperate, Gio, please notice me.'"
I choke on a laugh and hide it behind my hand, pretending to cough.
We are evil. But it's not our fault. She only talks to him. Every sentence starts with Gio and ends with a giggle.
She's fully locked in. We get it, girl. You want to know what Gio tastes like. Take a number.
"Can I get your number?" she asks, looking right at Gio like no one else exists. I turn away fast.
Why am I this angry? Why? I'm pissed. First of all, it's rude.
Hi, hello, we're here too.
What are we, background furniture? Do we not exist unless we have tattoos and a jawline you want to sit on?
