“Thank you.”
I push the door shut once she is safely in and jog around the front of my car, jumping into the driver’s seat. Taking a beat to really look at her under the soft glow of the car lights before I shut the door. She’s exactly how I knew she’d be—stunning.
“You look gorgeous.” I smile across to her, my hand gently brushing her exposed knee.
She smiles. “Thank you. You look pretty dashing yourself.”
I shoot her my best grin, the one I know makes girls swoon and sends women to their knees.
And off we go.
The place I chose to take Rachel to is a quaint Italian restaurant located approximately twenty minutes from town. It’s a quiet establishment, almost a romantic setting; although, lots of families go there to enjoy their traditional meals. My mom and I have been coming to this place for years. It's our go-to spot, and we really like the owners, who are always super welcoming. It’s also just enough out of the way that I can eat in peace. When I’m catching up with Mom, there is nothing worse than having ladies hitting on you, or male friends talking about what trouble you got into at the last party. Here, surrounded by red candlesplaced on the center of gray-checked tablecloths, I can have some peace and can enjoy the best pasta with my mom.
“Randy!” I get a big welcome from the owner Franco when he spots me entering. “Liliana!” he calls, then rambles something together in Italian I have no hope of understanding.
It has Liliana exiting the kitchen in a rush and walking over to me, her arms wide and ready for the flamboyant hugs she is known for. I embrace her back as she grabs at my cheeks. “Such a handsome boy!” She releases my face and looks to Rachel. “And who is this bella?”
“Liliana, this is Rachel,” I answer as she wraps Rachel in a hug, Rachel leans into her embrace. “Rachel, this is Liliana and her husband Franco, they own this place.”
Rachel greets them with a warm smile after being released from Liliana’s clutches.
“Beautiful, beautiful. Come sit!” The overly welcome Liliana ushers us over to a section at the back of the restaurant. “Your table is right over here.”
We take our seats as Liliana fusses over us, filling our water glasses and taking our drink orders. Once the motherly fussing is over and Liliana retreats to the kitchen, I notice the curious look Rachel is giving me.
“What?”
“Oh nothing, I’m just trying to figure out exactly how many dates you have had here.”
“Oh, I know exactly how many!”
“Really? Bullshit!” She smirks, a flicker of doubt dancing in her eyes, daring me to convince her otherwise.
I laugh at her challenge. “I do, honestly, because you are my first.”
She cocks an eyebrow, giving me a look that says, ‘There is no way in hell I believe you.’
“Honestly.” I laugh. “Well, does my mom count as a date?”
“No.”
“Then you are my first.”
“Oh.” The word barely leaves her lips.
“Yeah, my mom and I have been coming here for years, even before I started college. It works well now since it's halfway between us, and that’s why the owners know me so well.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed what I did.” She grabs her glass and takes a sip, a little knit in her brow.
“It’s fine; just don’t tell my mom, she may get jealous.” I shrug. “You know cause of all the other random women I’m bringing here behind her back,” I joke.
It pulls a laugh from her perfect face. “You and your mom sound really close? Is it just the two of you?”
"Yes, my dad died when I was twelve, and I was their only child. Mom tells me I broke the mold, and they couldn’t improve on perfection, so one was enough.
“Speaking as a mom…” She smirks. “It sounds like you were just a handful, and they couldn’t handle having another child.”
I laugh over the rim of my water. “You actually have no idea how right you are.” I take a sip and place my glass on the table. “Apparently, I gave my parents hell. I rarely slept, refused to eat, had reflux that had me screaming nonstop. So yeah, they weren’t going back for another after the trauma I put them through.”
