Page 36 of The Broker

“We’re close enough; worst case, I can alter the dress. I can sew, you know.”

“Where are we going for dinner?”

“Vetrano,” she replies. “And before you ask why, it’s because Neil insisted. According to Franco, he knows the head chef.”

Ugh. Vetrano is a two-star Michelin restaurant. I’m sure the food is lovely, but it’s also extremely expensive. It’s the kind of place you go to for an anniversary dinner, not a blind date.

And judging by Rosa’s exasperated tone, she’s not exactly thrilled at the choice either.

It’s just one evening, Valentina.

“Okay, I’ll see you at seven.”

I stare at my phone for a long time before I text Dante.

My date is tonight. Can you watch Angelica, or should I ask Lucia?

He takes almost five minutes to reply.

I’ll watch her.

Did I expect him to say something snide? Did I want him to protest and forbid me from going? Yes, I admit it; I was bracing for an explosion. Instead, I get this terse reply. I probably deserve it.

I have to be at Rosa’s place at seven.

There’s no reply.

Evidently, we’re going to Vetrano. I have to dress up. Ugh.

I don’t know why I keep texting Dante. I want him to say something to me. Anything. I wish he was here. I wish we could have talked this morning.

If he was here, what would you say?

Anyway, I’m going to borrow a dress from Rosa.

He finally writes back. It’s another terse message.

I’ll be home at 6.45.

I take a deep breath. Evidently, we’re both going to pretend last night’s kiss didn’t happen. That’s fine. It doesn’t bother meat all.

My next difficult conversation is with Angelica. “I’m going to be out tonight,” I tell her, trying to keep my tone casual. This stupid date. So much angst and I don’t even want to go. “Uncle Dante is going to be here, though.”

She doesn’t look up from the screen. I can’t compete with Saturday morning cartoons. “Where are you going?”

“I have a date.”

That attracts her attention. “With who? Can I meet them?”

“No.” I wish I had other single mother friends so I could ask them how much they let their children know about their dating life. “It’s a first date. I have to get to know them a lot better before I introduce them to you.”

My daughter fixes her serious gaze on me. “Uncle Dante is nice.”

Sigh. This again. “That’s good,” I tell her. “I’m glad you like him. Because you’ll be spending the evening with him.”

Leo walks me to Rosa’s apartment. “So, you’re going on a date,” he says. “This is a terrible idea.”

“More people weighing in on my every decision. That’sexactlywhat I need in my life, Leo.”