energetically, saying, “Thanks for dinner,” and he ushered a confused Carol out the door.
Inwardly, Barbara relaxed though she tried to look concerned. “Woo,” she said after closing the door, “That was fast, don’t you think?”
Silvio poured himself a small glass of the merlot and sipped appreciatively. “In my country people eat long.”
“Yes, Carol usually does.” She looked in his eyes, “Much, much long.”
“So why did John not stay?”
“I think the mention of Mike put a damper on my dinner.”
“A damper?”
Barbara had forgotten who her companion was. “I’m sorry. Damper, um, not fun anymore.”
“Oh,” he said. “It is too bad. It was good party.”
Well, with them gone now I can concentrate on making it even better. Barbara gestured toward her living room. “Have a seat by the fire?”
He shook his handsome head and said unenthusiastically, “Thank you, no. It was good dinner but I go to City early.” He looked at her, about to say something else but instead exhaled and said, “I see you next day.
Barbara was disappointed and embarrassed but she said with a thin smile, “Tomorrow then.” She opened the door for Silvio who took a step out into the hallway but he turned. They stood unmoving, gazing into each other’s eyes. How she longed to pull him back inside! By the look in his eyes, he probably wouldn’t have complained.
She broke their gaze. “Well, goodnight. Thanks for coming.” And she closed the door. She said to the settee, “If I were Carol, he’d be sitting beside me on you about now…but I’m not.”
It took an hour of tossing and turning but Barbara finally fell asleep. Her familiar sexy, and quite frustrating, dream greeted her once more.
Chapter 13
One last touch before Barbara left for work, the touch that made her, her. She reached for the $800 bottle of Clive Christian No.1 perfume that she had sprung for three years ago at Cartier’s in Boston (she used most of her first paycheck when she worked for an insurance firm). But it wasn’t where she had placed it - to the right of her mirror atop her dresser. Nor was it in the bathroom on either side of the sink. She placed both hands on her hips. “Now, where did you go?” She rifled through every drawer of her bureau and bent to search under her furniture, but the expensive little bottle was missing, as had her beautiful crystal atomizer with her second-favorite, and more affordable scent, Tiffany, just the week before. Either she was unknowingly rearranging her toiletries or she was going crazy. She settled for dabbing some Chanel #5 behind her ears instead.
* * *
By the time she parked outside Fiore, Barbara had forgotten her misplaced perfume. But once inside the side door to the restaurant she knew something was wrong there. Immediately her ears perked up at a sound coming from the office. It was 7:30 a.m. and usually no one else, not even Carlos, arrived for another hour. She tiptoed down the short hall and placed her ear against the door. She narrowed her eyes in concentration. Papers were rustling. Her chair squeaked. Now she’d know who— Suddenly the door opened and Barbara fell against Carol, who was more shocked than she.
“What were you doing in there?”
The plump young woman smiled, “I… got here early and was pretty sure you’d be late, you know, your date? So I turned on the—”
“Turned on? How’d you do that?”
“You told me the password, remember?” Her eyes suddenly widened, “You don’t think I have anything to do with—!”
“No, no, it’s not that.”
“Anyways, I began adding up the entries inputted from yesterday,” she pointed behind her on the desk. “After everyone was paid we made only $5,000 last night.”
“Only $5000? It should have been over ten thousand, especially on a Friday night!”
“Yeah, and it doesn’t begin to cover the costs of running this place. I’m afraid, Barbara, that Fiore is going to have to close.”
Barbara was shocked at Carol’s statement. “Oh no! No, Carol. I won’t let that happen. I mean it would mean so many people losing their jobs.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I just don’t know.” She reached over the desk and shut down the computer. “Just don’t tell any of the other employees. I wouldn’t want them to begin planning to jump ship…until the first mate says so.” She threw her arm over her friend’s shoulders and drew her out into the hallway. “By the way, what did you guys do last night after you left my place?”
Carol shrugged. “The usual.”
“The usual,” she repeated, for an instant not knowing to what she was referring, “Oh, the usual! Well, I hope you made him happier than he looked when he went out my door.”
Carol smiled smugly, “I think so. We both got a workout all night long.”
Barbara rolled her eyes and said drily, “Yeah, it’s not too hard to picture that.”
Carol suddenly stopped and faced her friend. “So? How’d it go with you and Silvio?”
Barbara shrugged. “He stayed for a few minutes longer and left.” Carol looked skeptical. “No really, my curly-headed little friend. I’m not like you. I can’t just jump into bed with a guy, even one as delicious as Silvio.” Carol made as if to protest. Barbara raised her index finger, “I’m certainly not judging. I just can’t be as…”
“Loose.”
Barbara hugged her. “No, I wasn’t thinking that. You know what you want (or who) and go after it.”
Carol punched her lightly, then raised her fist in a triumphant gesture, “And proud of it.”
Chapter 14
That evening, needing to have a little diversion away from her worries about the restaurant, Barbara had decided that an innocent dinner alone with Silvio would be enjoyable. After all, they had known each other for three weeks. And it being Wednesday - his day off - they would have a nice, unhurried meal.
After work, she shopped at Della’s dress shop where a beautiful cocktail dress called out to her. It was calf-length. Its silken cloth was loosely gathered around her breasts, hugged her tiny waist and draped over her hips. The décolletage was a little too-too, definitely so because it was just a dinner party for two at her home, but…whatever. And it was cream with just a touch of royal blue. After applying her makeup, loosely twisting the sides of her long, silky hair and fastening them to the rear of her head, and dressing, she reached for her expensive perfume bottle but – her shoulders slumped - it had still not materialized, not since the dinner with Carol, John and Silvio. Once again, Chanel #5 would have to do.
She took the lasagna – the last had turned out well, so - out of the oven,
