The Lapel

“The interview will commence in ten minutes so you need to go over there and fix his lapel.”  489_bc54ba7c-c087-4d6b-9b4e-e7ffd9bce37d

Rhea was mortified.  “I can’t,” she protested.

“Don’t be silly,” Angela snapped.  “You’re responsible for making sure that the guests look good in front of the camera.  Now get over and fix the lapel or you can kiss your job goodbye.”

“All right,” Rhea muttered under her breath.  “There’s no need to threaten me.”

“I’m not threatening you.  I’m not the one who will fire you if you don’t do your job.”

Rhea took a deep breath and smiling apologetically, she approached Ciaran Dankworth, the popular British television actor.  “Mr. Dankworth, I’m sorry but, I need to adjust your lapel.  May I?”

He smiled and nodded.  “By all means.”

She leaned over and fixed it, catching a whiff of his cologne.  It was unnerving and thrilling at the same time being that close to him.  She was a big fan of his.  She followed him on Facebook, read and watch all of his interviews.  When she learned that he was going to be here today, she was beside herself with excitement.  She wished she could ask him for his autograph or have a photo taken with him but she didn’t want to be a nuisance and her boss, Beth would come down hard on her like a ton of bricks.  Beth always reminded her that she had to be professional at all times and never bother any of their guests with requests for autographs or photos.

She straightened away from him, her heart thudding.  “It’s all fixed now,” she said.

His eyes met hers in a direct gaze.  “Thank you,” he said in that amazing voice of his with the posh British accent, most commonly known as the Queen’s English.

“You’re welcome.”

“What is your name?”

“Rhea.”

“Well, Rhea.  I would like to properly thank you for getting me all fixed up for the camera.  Would you object to having dinner with me?”

She gaped at him.  “Dinner? With you?”

“Yes.  After the interview.  I will have my driver take us to The Ivy.  That is if you don’t already have plans.”

“No, no.  I don’t have any plans at all.”

“So, we’re set for dinner at The Ivy?”

“Yes, yes.”  She heard Beth’s voice and quickly left the stage.  It was all a haze.  She couldn’t believe it.  She was going to have dinner at The Ivy with Ciaran Dankworth.  She was so tempted to tell Angela and Beth just to see the expressions on their faces but she held her tongue.  She stood in the wings, waiting for the interview to commence.

It turned out to be the best one she had seen so far.  Beth was beaming and when the cameras were shut off, she shook his hand again very enthusiastically.  “That was a smashing interview,” she gushed.  “I can see the ratings going through the roof.  Thank you so much, Mr. Dankworth for taking the time out of your very busy schedule to do this.  We are very appreciative.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied.  “I wouldn’t have gotten to meet you, lovely ladies,” he said looking at her and Angela.  “Or your assistant, Rhea who has agreed to have dinner with me.  I hope you don’t mind me whisking her away,” he added when he saw the expressions on their faces.

Beth shook her head.  “No.  I shan’t be needing her any more for the evening.”

“Wonderful.”  He turned to Rhea who had the satisfaction of seeing the red faces of her boss and Angela.  “Shall we go?”

“Yes.  Good night,” she said to Beth and Angela.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Have good evening, Ladies and thank you again.”

They walked away and into the mild evening.  A stretch limo was waiting for them.  The driver opened the door and she got in first and then he.  As the car pulled away from the curb, he turned to her.  “You know, even if someone else had fixed my lapel, I still would have asked you out for dinner.”

She smiled.  “I’m very pleased to hear that.”

He smiled in return.

Dinner turned out to be lots of fun, despite the attention they got.  When he took her home, he asked her on a second date which she happily accepted.  And they have been dating since.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompts for today’s word, Commence.  If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Source:  The Evening Standard; B2

His Type

It was an elaborate dinner for just the two of us, something I hadn’t expected at all.  When I showed up at the mansion, I expected to find other guests but I was the only one.  I was escorted by a butler who walked with his back straight as a rod to the dining-room.

She was sitting at the head of the table but rose gracefully when I entered.  The red shimmering dress with the V-neck flattered her figure and the high slit at the side revealed a pale, shapely thigh.  Her auburn hair tumbled about her shoulders.  Her red lips parted to reveal even white teeth as she reached up and kissed me on the corner of my mouth.

“Her gaze traveled slowly over me.  “You look amazing in that tux,” she remarked, admiration flickering in her eyes.

“Thank you.  And you look ravishing.”

Color suffused her cheeks.  “Thank you.  I hope you don’t mind that it’s just the two of us,” she said when she drew back to look up at me.

“Weren’t the others able to come?”

She studied me for a moment, her green eyes twinkling before she sashayed back over to her seat.  “They were never invited.”

My eyebrows arched.  Amused, I waited until she sat down before I did in the chair on her left.  “I’m flattered,” I said.  “If you wanted to have dinner with me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Would you have accepted if I had?”

“I might have.”

“You don’t sound sure.  Am I not your type?”

*************************************************************

“Well, is she your type?” Jayla interrupted.

He shook his head.  “No.”

“Did you stay and have dinner with her?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“She went to all of that trouble.  I couldn’t just leave.”

“She got you over there on false pretenses.  You weren’t obligated to stay.  Once you realized that she had tricked you, you should have left.”

“She didn’t trick me.”

“Well, she deceived you, then.  You should have left.”

“Maybe I should have.”

“If she had asked you to have dinner with her, would you have accepted?”

“Maybe.  I don’t know.”

“And did you answer her question?”

“Which one?”

“The one about her not being your type.”

“No, I changed the subject.  I told her that I was working on a new novel.  She asked me all sorts of questions about it.”

“And what happened after you finished having dinner?”

“We went into the drawing-room where we listened to music while having after dinner drinks.”

“And is that all you did–have drinks and listen to music?”

His lips twitched and he said, “You know from this angle that picture looks a bit crooked.”  Putting his glasses down on the counter, he got up and went over to adjust the frame.  When he turned to face her, she was glaring at him.  “Jayla, nothing happened between Vanessa and me.  After the drink, I thanked her for a lovely evening and then left.”  He returned to the stool and sat down.

“You said she looked ravishing.”

“She did.”

“Are you going to see her again?”

He shook his head.  “No.  Before we parted company, I made it very clear, in a tactful way, of course, that I wasn’t romantically interested in her.”

“And how did she react?”

“She was disappointed but there were no hard feelings.  We parted on good terms.”

Jayla got up from the sofa and walked slowly over to him.  “You said she kissed you.”

“Yes, she did.  Right here.”  He pointed to the right corner of his mouth.

“Did-did you feel anything?”

“No.”

She hesitated for a moment and then, leaning over, she kissed him at the corner of his mouth.  When she drew back, their eyes met.  “What about now?” she asked, breathlessly.  “Did you feel anything?”

His eyes were smoldering.  “Yes,” he muttered.  “I felt something.”  And then she was on his lap and he was kissing her.

Jayla wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her head spinning as all sorts of sensations swept through her body.  She had always fantasized about kissing him but this was beyond her wildest imagination.

Several minutes later, he drew back to gaze at her, his breathing labored and his face flushed.  “I’ve wanted to do that for a long, long time,” he panted.

She smiled.  “Why didn’t you?” she managed to say in between breaths.  Her chest was heaving and her heart was beating so fast.

“I wasn’t sure how you felt about until today when I saw that you were jealous of Vanessa.”

“You’re right I was very jealous.  I thought you were attracted to her because of the way you described her.”

“She is a very beautiful woman but I don’t want her.  I want you.  I have always wanted you.  I think it’s time I showed you just how much.”

She slid off his lap and swallowed hard when she saw the expression on his face before he picked her up and took her to his room.

You’re my type,” he said hours later when they were having dinner.

She smiled.  “And you’re mine.”

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompts for Thursday’s word, Elaborate and today’s word, Angle.  If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

The Girl Least Likely…

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PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

When he came into the library, I panicked.  I was afraid that if he saw me, he would come over and say hi and I was petrified that I wouldn’t be able to hide my feelings from him.  He was the most popular guy on campus and I was—well, the girl least likely to attract someone like him.

“Hi.”

“Hi,”

“May I join you?”

“Yes.”

He sat down and stared at me so hard that I wanted to cover my face.  “Are you busy Saturday night?”

“No.”

“How about dinner and a movie?”

Stunned, I nodded.

He grinned.

 

99 Words

This was written for the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields For more details, visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

News of a Wedding/Span #writephoto

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Photo by Sue Vincent

Although my gaze was fixed upon the water as it rushed forth as if it were late for an appointment, my heart was otherwise engaged in a very distressing matter–a matter which has placed my very constitution for happiness in grave danger.

The whispers of the impending nuptials between George Allerton, my employer and the beautiful Lydia Bridewell have been growing louder.  Yesterday, I overheard Alice, the maid telling Beatrice, the cook that the wedding could be as early as a fortnight.  I wanted to inquire of Mrs. Moore, the housekeeper, if this were true but thought it best not to touch on the subject for fear of betraying my feelings if she did confirm it.  So, I held my tongue and suffered in silence.

For his part, Mr. Allerton has said nothing to me which I find to be very strange as it would be imperative for me to find employment elsewhere.  The thought of leaving Riverdale Manor, little Amy and Mr. Allerton fills me with torment.  Over a span of four years, I have grown to love my life here.  I cannot imagine finding the same happiness elsewhere.

Necessity bids me now to bring the matter of my leaving before Mr. Allerton as soon as possible.  I have made up my mind to broach the subject this evening after dinner and when we are alone in the drawing-room where he and I have spent many evenings together engaged in stimulating conversations.  It is obvious to me that he enjoys my company as much as I enjoy his and it warms my heart that he treats me not as a servant but as an equal.

My gaze swept over the beautiful landscape with the lush green grass and trees which swayed gently in the breeze.  I shall miss this place which has brought me such joy and peace.  I shall miss the solitude and the walks I have enjoyed with Mr. Allerton.   I shall miss seeing little Amy chasing after butterflies while I read or sketched.  And I shall miss Mrs. Moore who has been so kind and good to me.

Tears pricked my eyes and I turn to head back to the manor when I espied Mr. Allerton striding towards me.  I stood there, my heart racing.  Perhaps, he was coming to address the very matter I wanted to bring to his attention this evening.  He had been in town on business.  The manor was never the same when he wasn’t there.  When he went away for days and weeks at a time, it was torture for me.  I missed him dreadfully.

He was standing before me now, his hair as black as the night was tousled from his habit of running his fingers through the thick tresses and his face was slightly flushed from the exercise.  His eyes raked my face making me feel as little self-conscious.  I touched my face which felt hot.

“Miss Foster,” he said as he towered over me.  “I was told that I might find you here.  How have you been?”

I wanted to say that I have been miserable because he had been away and because of the news of Miss Bridewell and him.  Instead, I stepped back a little, attempted a smile and replied, “I have been well, Sir.”

He studied me with those penetrating dark brown eyes of his.  “You don’t look well,” he said, looking concerned.  “In fact, you look very pale.  Are you unwell?”

“No, Sir.  I’m fine.”

He didn’t look convinced but he didn’t press the matter.  “Let us stand over there in the shade,” he suggested.  I followed him over to a group of trees and we stood under their shade.

Perhaps now was the time for me to bring the matter of my leaving to his attention.  Taking a deep breath, my hands tightly clasped in front of me, I said, “Sir, it has come to my attention that I need to find myself another situation.  I will advertise and hopefully find a suitable position very soon.”

He stared at me.  “What the deuce are you talking about?” he demanded.  “What new situation and why should you advertise?  I think you may have been out in the sun too long, Miss Foster.”

“Sir, it would not do for me to remain in your employ after you are married.”

“Married?  Now, I know you have taken leave of your senses.  Where the devil did you get the idea that I’m getting married?”

“There has been talk of your upcoming nuptials to Miss Bridewell and—”

“Miss Bridewell and I?” he exclaimed.

“Yes, it is believed that in a fortnight you two shall wed.”

He laughed.  “It is true that in a fortnight, Miss Bridewell shall wed but it shall not be to me.”

I looked at him, confused.  “But, Sir, everyone said that she was to wed Mr. Allerton.”

“Yes, she is to wed James Allerton, my cousin.”

I was so overwhelmed with relief that I had to lean against the tree lest my legs give way beneath me.  When I heard the name Mr. Allerton in relation to Miss Bridewell, I just assumed that it was him to whom they referred.  I had forgotten all about his cousin, James whom I recalled had been particularly attentive towards Miss Bridewell whenever they were in each other’s company.

“There is color in your cheeks again, Miss Foster,” Mr. Allerton remarked now, watching me closely.  “I suspect that it has to do with my clearing up a little misunderstanding.”

“Yes, Sir.  It means that it is no longer necessary for me to quit your employ.  I can stay at Riverdale for as long as I am needed here.”

His expression became very serious and he moved closer to me.  “What if I needed you to stay permanently at Riverdale?”

My eyes widened.  “Permanently?” I repeated.  “What about when Amy no longer needs a governess or you decide to marry?”

He reached for my hand.  The feel of his warm fingers against mine made my heart flutter and my breath quicken.  His eyes met mine in a steady gaze.  “Miss Foster—Emma, Amy is no longer in need of a governess,” he said quietly.  “She’s in need of a mother and I am in need of a wife.”

I gawked at him.  “You mean…?”

“Yes, my dear Emma, I am asking you to marry me.”

I felt as if I were in a dream, one from which I hoped never to wake.  This was all so incredible.  My heart was pounding wildly against my ribs and my face was on fire.  “But what will everyone think of you marrying someone beneath your station?”

“When it comes to my heart and what constitutes my happiness, I care not about what others think. And I have always treated you as my equal and not as someone beneath my station.”

I smiled.  “That is true, Sir.”

He smiled.  “Since I am soon to be your husband, don’t you think it’s time you called me George?”

“Yes, George.”

He didn’t answer.  Instead, he held my face between his hands and kissed me.  My heart was bursting with happiness.

At the end of summer, we were wed.

 

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Span at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

The Second Date

Marla was taking a stroll on her last vacation day in the summer, enjoying the quiet neighborhood close to where she lived and the beautiful weather when her cell rang.  It was Dean.  Smiling she answered it.  “Hi, Dean.

“Hi, Marla.  I just wanted to call and tell you that I had a really great time last night.”

They had dinner at the swanky Polo Bar.

“Me too.”

“You mentioned that you like Jazz so I was wondering if you would like to go to Bill’s Place with me tonight?”

“Sure, I’d love that.”

“Good.  I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“It’s a date!”

He smiled.  “Yes, it is.  The second of many, I hope.”

Sources:  Trip Advisor; Conde Nast Traveler;

More Than Friends

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When I saw you today, I had to let you know how much your friendship has meant to me, especially these last couple of months.  Losing both of my parents within months of each other has been hell for me.  I couldn’t have made it through this nightmare if it hadn’t been for you.  You’re presence has been like a balm to me, comforting and strengthening me.  It will take a while for me to process losing two incredible people but knowing that you’re just a phone call away helps.

When I saw you today, I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked and how seeing you brightened my day.  Your lovely smile makes my heart beat faster and whenever we hug, I don’t want to let go.  We have been friends since we were in high-school but I have secretly been in love with you and wish that one day I would have to courage to tell you.  I don’t date anymore because I always that the woman was you.  Whenever you talk about a guy you’re dating, I smile and listen but it hurts inside because I wish I were him.

I’m sitting here in the park, watching the ducks in the pond, wishing that you were here with me.  I take out my cell and look at the display.  I want to call you—just to talk but you’re probably busy.  Sighing, I’m about to slip it back into the breast pocket of my jacket when it rings.  My heart skips a beat when I see the number.

“Hello, Brittany.”

“Hello, Chase.  What are you doing?”

“I’m sitting on a bench in Central Park watching the ducks.”

You laughed.  “You and I used to do that a lot.”

“Yes.  We used to like hanging out here after school.”

“And you used to walk me home.”

“Yes.  I wanted to make sure that you were safe.”

“You were always looking out for me.”

“Yes.”  I wanted to say, that’s because you meant the world to me.  You still do. 

“Chase, this afternoon when I ran into you, I wanted to tell you something but didn’t have to guts to do it.”

My heart was racing now.  “Is that why you’re calling now?”

“Yes.  It’s easier for me to do it over the phone than in person.”

Dread filled me.  “Tell me what it is.”

“Chase, I don’t want us to be friends anymore.”

My heart sank.  “I was afraid that you were going to say that.”

“No,” you replied, “you don’t understand.  I’m handling this all wrong.  What I meant to say is that I don’t want us to be just friends any more.  I want us to be more.”

My grip on my cell tightened.  “You do?”

“Yes.  Today when I saw you I wanted to tell you how I feel but I got cold feet.”

“How do you feel, Brittany?”

“I’m in love with you, Chase.  I have been since my first year at high-school.”

I swallowed hard.  “You have no idea how happy I am to hear this.  Brittany, I’ve wanted to tell you that I love you for such a long time but I was afraid to because I didn’t know how you felt and the last thing I wanted to do was ruin our friendship.”

“Oh, Chase, all these years we’ve wasted not telling each other how we really feel.”

I got up from the bench.  “Let’s not think about the years we’ve wasted,” I said.  “We have the present and the future.”

“Do you have any plans for this evening?”

“No.  And even if I did I would cancel them.”

“Come over to my place at seven for dinner and…”

It was the “and” which made me blush.  “I’ll be there for seven,” I told you.

“Good.  I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll bring the wine.”

“Bring your appetite too.  I hope you have a big one.”

I could feel my face grow red.  “I do,” I assured you.

You laughed and ended the call.

I glanced at my watch.  It was a quarter to six.  I left the park and hurried to my flat which was a ten minute walk from there.  I could hear the birds chirping.  Did they sense how ecstatic I was?  Perhaps they did.

 

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for today’s prompt, Balm.  If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

 

Carmelo Finds Love

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Carmelo Pagliani, a Neapolitan shipping magnate and billionaire owned palatial homes in Tuscany, Monaco and Beverly Hills.  He was never married but he enjoyed the company of beautiful, young and exotic women.  He didn’t have any children.  Life was as he wanted it.  No long-term commitments and no worries about alimony or child support.  He was a free agent who enjoyed the fruits of his hard work.

He came from a large family.  He was the fifth of five brothers and four sisters.  His parents owned a pizza shop which became popular because Sophia Loren visited it once.  The photo of her and his parents hung in a prominent place on the wall.  As a boy, he worshipped the actress and always went with his father to see her movies.  Many years later, he met her at a Dolce & Gabbana Alta Moda show in Mexico City.  She was beautiful and charming.  A frame photo of them stood on the mantelpiece in his Tuscan home.

Carmelo was used to getting what he wanted, whether it was to do with business or women.  A couple years ago, he expanded his business to South America.  Last week, he met Dondrea, a stunning African American woman in St. Barts.  He was there alone and she was there with some friends.

The first time he saw her, he wanted to meet her immediately.  One evening before dinner, he approached her as she was stepping off the elevator on her way to the dining-room.  She was alone.  Her friends must have gone ahead.

“Good evening,” he said, holding out his hand.  “Carmelo Pagliani.”

She smiled and shook his hand.  “Dondrea Williams.”

“Is this your first time in St. Barts?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And how do you find it?”

“It has beautiful beaches.”

“Did you come here to celebrate New Year’s?”

“Yes.  It’s strange not being in New York on New Year’s Eve.”

“So, that’s where you’re from, New York?”

“Yes.  What about you?  Where are you from?”

“Naples but I live in Tuscany.  I too am here to celebrate New Year’s, something I’ve never done alone.”

“You didn’t bring a wife or a girlfriend?”

“I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend.”

She stared at him.  “I find that hard to believe.”

He smiled.  “It’s true.  I’m single.  What about you?”

“I’m single too.”

“Do you think your friends would mind if you had dinner with me instead?” older black woman

She shook her head.  “No, they wouldn’t.  I’ll just let them know.  Do you mind if I introduced you to them?”

“Not at all.”  He followed her into the dining-room and over to a table where five people were sitting.  They glanced up as they approached.

“Guys, I won’t be joining you for dinner this evening,” she informed them.  “This is Carmelo.  He invited me to have dinner with him.”

Her friends introduced themselves and shook his hand.  They exchanged in a lively conversation with him for several minutes before he and Dondrea excused themselves.

“You have very nice friends,” he commented as they sat at a table for two.

“Yes, I do,” she agreed.  “We’ve known each other for years.  They are like family.”

Dinner with her was a wonderful experience.  He enjoyed her company and their conversations.  He didn’t want the evening to end so he invited her to join him for an after dinner drink in the bar.  Afterwards, they went for a walk on the beach.  He escorted her back to her room.  Outside the door, he said, “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

She smiled.  “I enjoyed it too.”

“Will you have breakfast with me in the morning?”

She nodded.  “Yes, I will.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby at seven-thirty.”

“Goodnight, Carmelo.”

“Goodnight, Dondrea.”

They had breakfast and then they went to the beach where they spent most of the day.  That evening and every evening after that they had dinner together.  And they had breakfast every morning.  During the day, they went on excursions, to other beaches and had lunch at the Shellona Restaurant which overlooked Shell Beach.  On her last evening, he took her for dinner at Casa Club.

When they returned hours later to her room, she invited him in.  He spent the night.  The following morning, they ordered breakfast and had it on her terrace.  Then, he went to his suite while she got ready to leave for the airport.   He was in the lobby waiting for her and he went with to the entrance.  An airport limo was waiting and so were her friends.  He said goodbye to them and while they got into the limo, she and he faced each other.  He took her hands in his.

“Thank you for seven incredible days,” he said quietly.  “I’ve been to St. Barts before but I’ve never enjoyed myself this much.”

“I enjoyed myself very much too.”

“We have each other’s number so we will be in touch.”

“Yes.  Goodbye, Carmelo.”

“Goodbye, Dondrea.”  He raised her hands to his lips.

Then, she was getting into the limo and he stood there watching as it pulled away.  After she left, the rest of his stay at the hotel was dull and he missed her terribly.  He was relieved to get back to Tuscany.

He sat in his study now, staring at the page of his address where her number was written.  Several weeks had passed and he hadn’t called her as yet.  His business had kept him busy and fear prevented him picking up the phone.  Fear of what?  Fear of commitment.  Marriage was something he had never seriously considered but now he was and it was because of Dondrea.

Dondrea was different from the other women he had been with.  Those had been mere dalliances. No feelings had been involved.  When he got bored with them, he ended the relationship.  It hadn’t been casual with Dondrea.  From the very beginning it had been serious for him.  And that’s what scared him.  He knew that he could easily fall in love with her and by the third time they were together, he knew he had.  He wondered if she felt the same way.  With all of his heart, he hoped so.

He picked up the receiver and dialed her number.  His heart skipped a beat when she answered.  “Hello, Dondrea.”

“Carmelo.”  She sounded happy to hear from him.  “How have you been?”

“Busy.  That’s why I didn’t call you before.  How are you?”

“I’m well, thanks.  I’m been reminiscing about St. Barts.”

“Me too.  Dondrea, how do you feel about spending the month of June in Tuscany with me?”

“I’d love to!” she exclaimed.

He smiled.  “Good.  You’ll love it, I promise.”

They talked for hours and then, they ended the call.  They telephoned each other every week.  Then, one day, he decided he would fly to New York and surprise her.  She was beside herself with excitement when he showed up at her apartment.  He spent three weeks with her and on the night before he left, when they were relaxing on the sofa after dinner, he reached for her hand.  “Ti amo,” he said quietly.  “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replied.

“Enough to move to Tuscany?”

Her eyes widened.  “You want me to move to Tuscany?” she exclaimed.

“Yes.  I have a villa in San Gimignano.”

She thought about it for a moment.  “Yes.  I’ll move to San Gimignano.”

He smiled.  “Molto bene,” he murmured before he kissed her.

The following year, Dondrea left New York and moved into Carmelo’s villa in San Gimignano.  In May, with friends and family present, they tied the knot.

This was written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt for today’s prompt, Surprise.  If you’re interested in participating, click HERE for more information.

Sources:  St. Bart’s Restaurants; Destination Saint-Barths; St. Barts Travel Guide; Date Billionaire;