PS It’s a date.
Elisa reads it in seconds, and I’m left awaiting her reply:Elisa Benetti is typing ...
58
Elisa
My infamous self-control failed at the most critical moment. We’d nearly reached the hotel, and with two minutes to go, my emotional dam sprung a leak, spilling what I held inside.
I’m not capable of faking it and even less so with Michael. I could see it in my own reflection in the window. I’d be a terrible poker player.
As I’m entering the hotel elevator, I get a message.
It’s Michael, and just reading his name stretches my lips into a smile.
Do you have plans tomorrow evening? I’d like to see you again.
PS It’s a date.
I stand there, my thumbs hovering over the screen, with no idea what to write. I’d like to say no, just to be the one to call the shots. In military training, snipers compete to see who is most accurate; the one who hits the target “calls” the shot. The better the shooter, the more shots he calls, winning the game. A bit like the competition between Michael and me.
I already gave in back in the taxi. I told him I loved him, I kissed him, I let on that I’d be willing to see him again. I might as well just declare my unconditional surrender.
I can’t wait; I write to him.Where are we going?
His response is immediate.
The most exclusive restaurant in London. I’ll pick you up.
59
Michael
“Do I look elegant enough?” Elisa asks me as we’re leaving the hotel. “I had to buy an evening gown on the fly.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, opening the door for her. “I know the owner. He won’t make a fuss.”
“I really hope so with what this thing cost me!” There’s a bright, cheerful note in her voice, with no edge to it.
“You didn’t have to dress up,” I reassure her. “That ‘Pianigiani Award-Winning Charcuterie’ apron suits you just fine.”
“We had a great day at the fair today. A few visitors were interested in our wines, and one of them put in a pretty big order. Nothing crazy, but it’s a good sign. I wanted to celebrate with something nice for myself ... it’s been years since I bought a dress worthy of its name, as opposed to whatever’s on sale.”
“Just know this: You’re making it very hard for me to keep my eyes on the road.” Elisa is wearing a simple dress made of a shiny black fabric, a kind of silk woven with thin silver threads, high-necked and floor-length, but with a slit that goes up past her mid-thigh and exposes her leg, which is mere inches from my hand resting on the gearshift.
“Really? Am I that distracting?”
“I could pull over, but I fear we’d never reach our destination.”
“Absolutely not! This could be the only Tom Ford dress I ever own in my life, and I intend to show it off as much as I can. Plus I’d really like to immerse myself in the London that matters and see what your world is like here.”
“Tonight might not be the right one for that. I have a special plan in mind, but I’ll be happy to show you more of London tomorrow.”
“I’m very curious.”
“Your curiosity will soon be satisfied ... and not only that, I hope.”
She gives me a smile, the kind she gave me yesterday, and I take it as a green light. I don’t want to risk bold moves, but I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it.
