“Well, I mean, Iam,”I joked.
Emilia laughed. “There’s one thing they didn’t say: ‘Giorgio is SO modest.’”
“Nobody’s perfect.”
“Why does Lucia keep calling you Gorgeous George?” she asked, then added impishly, “Other than the obvious reason?”
“Ah,” I said happily, “so you think I’m gorgeous?”
“Don’t fish for compliments.”
I laughed.
“So?” Emilia prodded. “Why does she call you that?”
“It was a joke one of my bosses made. The pope who retired – the one before Pope Francis – ”
“Pope Benedict.”
“Right, him. Some cardinal used to hang out with him after he retired, and the cardinal’s nickname was ‘Gorgeous George’… and now that’s what everybody calls me.”
“That’s cute.”
“Lucia says it’s better than being called ‘Curious George.’”
“Oh, the monkey!”
“You know him?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“I didn’t know who it was.”
“Well, he’s very cute. So that would have been an okay nickname, too.”
“I think I’ll take being ‘gorgeous’ over being ‘cute.’”
“Well, that’s what I’ll call you, then.”
I paused. Then I asked, “I’ve got to know – what changed?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, first you didn’t want to go out with me, and now I’m walking you home. What changed?”
Emilia stiffened a little, and her smile faded away.
I said hurriedly, “I could stop halfway so I don’t see where you live, if that’s what you want – ”
“No, it’s… it’s fine.”
“So… is it just the things Lucia and Bianca said about me? Is that what changed your mind?”
She was silent for a moment, then finally said, “There was something else.”
“What?”
“I showed up to the photo shoot yesterday kind of freaked out.”
