Read Disastrous (Disastrous Series) Online
Authors: EL Montes
A small bell rang when the door closed behind Marcus. My eyes searched for a hostess or waiter. A moment later, a short overweight man appeared through a double swinging door from a room in the back, which I guessed was the kitchen. Marcus swiftly passed me and headed towards the man. The older man’s face brightened at the sight of DeLuca. He raised his arms to greet him with a huge hug.
“
Ciao, come stai?
” The older man’s voice was loud and enthusiastic.
“
Bene, e voi?
” To my surprise, Marcus spoke clear Italian. I didn’t understand a word he was saying, but it sounded sexy.
“
Mi sveglio ogni giorno ... chi è questa bella donna
” The man looked at me with a huge grin while motioning his hand in my direction.
Marcus looked over his shoulder at me and smiled before returning to the man and replying, “
Un mio buon amica.
”
The man nodded and waved his hand for me to come over. “
Oh, ben venuto su ho a sedere alcune speciali
”
The man turned and began to walk away. Marcus waited till I met up with him; he placed the palm of his hand on my lower back. The very small gesture felt intimate, and I was sure he didn’t mean anything by it, but the touch sent a burning ache through my veins. I concentrated on anything else but that touch as we followed the man. We were led up a flight of stairs and into another small room full of tables and chairs set similarly to downstairs. We walked across the room till we were in front of glass doors. The man slid the door open and led us onto the balcony that overlooked the park across the street.
There was a small table with two chairs on the tiny balcony. He motioned for us to sit down, and with a strong Italian accent and broken English, he struggled to speak to me, “Friend of Marky, friend of mine. Please, enjoy.” He was such a cute man, short, with full grey hair that was neatly brushed back. He wore a black t-shirt tucked into his black pants with his belly overlapping his belt. He also wore a gold chain necklace.
I smiled at his friendliness. “Thank you.” He nodded with a huge grin and headed out the door.
“He’s a very nice man.” I turned my attention to Marcus whose stare was gentle and passionate.
“He was good friends with my grandfather. My dad used to bring me and my brother here all the time as kids. I haven’t been here in a long time, and since I was in the area, I figured it would be nice to visit.”
The older man returned with laminated menus and a pitcher of water. He poured water into our empty glasses. He asked a question, and Marcus looked at me, “Would you like some wine?” I shook my head rather too quickly. It made him laugh knowing that I consumed enough alcohol last night to last me an entire week. He responded to the man who then left.
I glanced down at the menu. Thankfully everything was printed in English.
My stomach growled. I looked up at Marcus, wondering if he noticed. Surprisingly he wasn’t staring at the menu; he was staring at me. It felt …
strange
. “Do you know what you want?”
Licking his lips seductively just like in my dream, he answered, but something told me he wanted something more than his meal. “I always order the Pesto italiano pasta.”
Looking down at the menu and back at him, I tried to pretend his stare didn’t faze me. “Oh, do you recommend anything for me?”
He slightly tilted his head. “I recommend the lasagna or the eggplant parmesan.” He licked his lips.
Oh God,
he did it again; suddenly I was hungry for him and not food.
What was wrong with me!
Bless the older man’s soul when he interrupted my sensual thoughts. He placed before us two plates of salad, a basket of bread with a side dish of olive oil, and some type of seasoning. The man ran off again. I grabbed my fork and dug into the salad, not waiting for Marcus to go first. I was too hungry to be polite and not dig in.
We sat in silence as we ate our salads. Halfway through, I looked up at him, and he was staring at me again. “Is there something wrong? Every time I look at you, it feels like you’ve been staring at me the entire time.”
“I have.” He grabbed his glass and sipped his water, not taking his eyes off me.
“Why? Is there something on my face?” I picked up a napkin to wipe my lips.
“No.” He chuckled. “I like staring at you. You’re a beautiful woman, so it’s hard not to stare.” My stomach fluttered. Underneath the table, I pinched my hand to see if this were real or a dream. Nope, I felt the sting against my flesh; this was definitely real.
“Thank you,” I whispered. To distract myself, I grabbed a piece of warm bread and dipped it into the olive oil. I took a bite; oh it was good. I took another bite. When I looked up, he was smiling at me. “What?”
“Do you want to talk about what happened last night? Maybe you can relax after we do.” I stopped chewing.
What?
Oh no, something bad happened, I must have slept with him and don’t even remember.
What a waste!
Looking away nervously, I whispered, “What happened last night?” Turning my head, I tried to distract myself by admiring the trees in the park.
I could hear him adjust his body in the seat. “Well, for starters, we didn’t sleep with each other.” My eyes snapped to his.
“Oh thank God!” I cried in relief.
“But you wanted to; you asked me too.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
His all-white, perfect-toothed grin engulfed his face. “No…you were completely hammered last night. I helped you up the stairs and into your room. When we entered your room, you asked me to help you out of your dress. You were complaining about how tight it was, so I unzipped it for you. You sat down on the edge of the bed, so I could take your shoes off. After I did, you ran your fingers through my hair, saying how soft it was. You also mentioned how much you thought my lips were sexy.” He smiled, remembering my foolishness. I wished I could fly away, maybe even make a clear escape by throwing myself off of the balcony, but I was too stunned to move, to even speak.
He continued, “You tried to kiss me, but I didn’t want to kiss you like that. So I pulled away. You were very angry at the rejection. I remember a few curses, and then you stomped over to your drawer, pulled something out, and tossed it to the side of your bed. I’m not sure what it was. You then you threw yourself in bed … You lay there and fell asleep … I covered you with the blanket, and then I left.”
Embarrassed by his brutally honest account of last night’s events, I couldn’t look at him. I also had the feeling he was just being polite and pretended not to know what I took out of my drawer. Lowering my head, I focused on my fidgeting fingers.
I could feel the heat of his stare, but I didn’t dare to look up. "I apologize for my behavior last night. Please know that’s not me … I don’t even drink liquor.” Nervously laughing once, I continued to mumble. “I'm more of a wine person. Last night was just a celebration of the start of summer break. I assure you it will never happen again.” My voice was so low I'm not sure it was audible.
Bravely I peeked up through my long lashes, catching when his smile faded.
“I hope that’s not true … See I wanted to kiss you last night,
very
badly, but not while you were incapable of remembering it.” He bit his lip and then continued, “I want to get to know you better, if that’s okay with you? I want to know about you, where you’re from, your family, everything.” He paused for a mere second. “For some unexplained reason I'm drawn to you, and I can't stop thinking about you. All day at work today during a conference call during my deposition, you were the only thing on my mind.” His lips curled into a crooked smile.
Speechless I opened my mouth to say something but couldn’t find the right words, so I closed it. I thought he wasn’t interested, especially the way he acted last night. “So what are you saying exactly?”
“
I want to date,” Marcus said, “see where it goe
s.
I’ve
never
dated before, and I don’t know how it works, but you’re the kind of girl that a man should treat like a woman, not as a one-night stand.
”
Baffled by this entire conversation, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You’ve never been in a relationship before?”
His eyes grew serious. “I never had
time
for a serious relationship.”
Glaring at him, I leaned in on the table. “But you have time to date
me
?”
His expression relaxed. “I'll
make
the time for you, to get to know you better.”
I said everything in one quick breath as I always do when I’m mad or nervous, “And what if I'm not the woman you think I am? What if one of us takes this more seriously than the other? One of us could end up hurt. What if I get the externship position at your firm? How will people look at us, at me? How will it interfere with my position if it doesn’t work out with us? I don't know if I can deal with all of that.” I was extremely nervous.
Laughing once, he dragged his hand through his hair, thinking before speaking, “Stop over-thinking every little outcome. But to answer your questions,
yes
you’re exactly what I thought.
No
one
will end up hurt. You
will
have the extern position; there’s no question about that. Don’t worry about what others may think. If,
and
I mean
if,
it doesn’t work out between us, your position will remain; your work life and personal life are two separate issues.”
“Not when your work and personal life are combined. I don’t know Marcus. I’ve seen two separate sides of you so far. Last night you seemed angry and quite the asshole.” He raised an eyebrow. “
Sorry…
and then today you seem to be polite and a gentleman.”
Relaxing his shoulders, he leaned into the table, folding his hands. “Last night my anger was not directed towards you: I was angry at Jeremy for leaving you behind. He was willing to allow you to take a cab alone at that hour. It upset me; that’s all. I apologize if I offended you in any way.”
I stared at him for what seemed like a long time, trying to think this through. We didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stared at each other. In less than twenty-four hours everything had changed. He was a very handsome man but a busy man as he himself said. What did he want from me? Why me? Fortunately the older man reappeared, ready to take our order, Marcus gave him our selections, and he rushed away.
“Can I think about it?” I needed a clear mind to analyze this on my own time, not while he was staring at me with those big brown eyes.
“Of course.” Leaning closer, he studied me. “How about we change the subject? Where are you from, Mia. I can tell you’re not from Boston from your accent.”
I giggled. “
My
accent? I'm from Philly, and we Philadelphians do not have accents, whereas Boston natives do.”
He shook his head, smiling. “How long have you been in Boston? Did you come here for Harvard Law, or were you living here prior to your attendance at the university?”
Why was he so formal? I’m not on a damn interview, or maybe this is the interview!
“I moved here with my brother when I was fourteen years old. He was ten years older than me and took care of me after our father passed away. It was emotional for us, so we left. He was hired as a detective, and he purchased a home here and took care of me.” I took a sip of water to distract myself for a moment. I didn’t want to cry. It was still too soon; every time I talked about my brother I’d get a little emotional.
“Sorry to hear about your loss. If you don’t mind my asking, how did your father pass?”
Taking a long gulp of water before answering, I shifted in my seat. “He was a Philly cop. He was shot and killed while responding to a robbery at a local gas station. When he appeared on the scene, he was alone. He phoned in on the radio, letting them know it looked clear and that he was going in to question the clerk. But when he entered, the robber was still there: a nineteen-year-old boy. He was startled when he saw my father in uniform, and his initial reaction was to pull the trigger.”
He raised his eyebrows, not expecting that answer. “Wow, I'm so sorry to hear that.” The atmosphere between us became too serious. This was a subject I liked to avoid when people asked…because no one could understand why I had no one in my life. I had told these stories a few times before, but that time it felt different. I couldn’t quite explain why.
“Your mother?” he continued to question.
Clearing my throat, I thought to change the attention onto him, but I caved in. “I don’t know who my mother is. After giving birth to me, she left my father, leaving my brother and me in his care. I’d heard different stories, but the main one was that she suffered from depression and couldn’t deal with being a parent…
and
while on the subject, I don’t know anyone from my mother’s side of the family as well. My father was an only child. His father passed when he was young, and my grandmother died when I was nine of breast cancer.
“So after my father passed, it was just my brother and I. When my brother died in October, I took it very hard.” I stopped myself and tried to make a joke out of my self-pettiness. “Well I guess I’m a loner, all by myself.” I nervously giggled, taking another sip of water, wishing I’d ordered that wine instead.
His eyes widened in shock. I thought that maybe he’d see that I was emotionally messed up and rethink this getting-to-know-me-better bit. “Your brother passed too?”
“Yes,
but
that’s a subject I rather not discuss. It's been a few months since his death, and I'm still taking it very hard.” He nodded in response, knowing not to touch that subject anymore. I managed to hold back my tears when talking about my brother, a first since his passing. “So you mentioned a brother. Is he older? Younger?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from me.
He squirmed in his seat now that the tables were turned. “Uh, yeah, he's older but not by much, by four years; he's thirty-three. Uh, it was just he and I growing up. We have a close relationship. When my father passed, I was just beginning my freshman year in high school. My mother took it very hard and forced my brother and me to have a good relationship. At that time, we hated each other.” He laughed, thinking back. “It worked. I guess mothers know best, huh?”