Page 36 of Burning Caine
“Sì, we should get back soon.” He gestured toward the window and nodded. Within a minute, Angelo had appeared with our order, plus one of his ‘world-famous’ cornetti.
We sipped our drinks, and I ate my treat, enjoying the sweet, flaky pastry and its rich, silky chocolate hazelnut filling. I dipped it in the foam on top of my cappuccino and tilted my face toward the sun’s warmth. The food, the drink, the soft Italian voices around me; if I closed my eyes, I was back in Italy.
But unlike last time, I wasn’t with a man who’d break my heart.
Chapter 14
Antonio
WefinishedatRusso’stoo soon. She asked for the bill, but I insisted. No matter what she said, we’d made a toast for a date, and this was our first. First of many, I was already sure.
She was more comfortable on the walk back to the office, although that wasn’t setting the bar high. At least she had only chastised me once and we only needed two fresh starts.
“How long have you lived here? From your accent, I’m guessing you grew up in Rome?”
“I was born in Brenton.” I spoke with one hand as we walked, keeping the other in my pocket. Otherwise, it would have been on her or around her, and she was obviously not as tactile as I preferred to be. “My father worked with my grandfather in the same office I work in today. My great uncle ran the original office in Roma until he died when I was five. My father moved us back to Italia to take over then.”
“Why did you come back to the U.S.?”
“Family business. When my grandfather passed, my father came back to America to run the studio here. Three generations now. I hope someday my children will work here, as well.”
She nodded politely.
“Do you have any?”
“Children?” She exhaled sharply. “No, they don’t exactly fit my lifestyle.”
What did that mean? She didn’t want them? Or simply not yet? “Your lifestyle?”
“I move around a lot.”
“How does that work with your job at Foster?”
“I’m an independent adjuster, so I don’t work directly for them. My actual employer is more like a temp agency. Normally, they deploy me around the country wherever I’m needed—and licensed. Tornadoes, hailstorms, wildfires. And stuff.” Her gaze fell to the sidewalk, the same look coming over her as the night at Caruther’s.
I clasped a hand over my heart as the truth dawned on me. “And they assigned you here while your sister undergoes her treatments?”
She shrugged and nodded slightly. Before I could interrogate any further, she cleared her throat and continued. “How old were you when you moved back to the States?”
I wanted to continue asking questions and getting to know her, but the look on her face was clear: It was best to move on to lighter topics. “Old enough to start college.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Michigan State—”
“Go Green!” More school spirit than I would have expected, given how quiet she had been in class.
“Go White,” I laughed. “Then, back to Roma for my master’s and my doctorate in Delaware.”
“Delaware? What’s your doctorate in?”
“Preservation Studies. I developed a new method for fresco repairs, with a lower risk of damage to the original. It’s probably the least interesting thing about me.”
“Really? It sounds fascinating.”
“You’re being polite.” My free hand dug into my pocket. This was not something I enjoyed speaking about with women I was pursuing. They never found it interesting. Of course, that was part of the problem with my love life, was it not?
But her eyes lit up and she put a hand on my arm, her excitement washing over me. My stomach clenched at the touch, and I couldn’t control my smile.