The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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I look up at Marcus and he smiles and shakes my hand. “Hello, Olivia.”

“Hi.” I smile, grateful as he takes the box from me.

It’s not him.

Seraphina kisses my cheek. “Good luck, I’ll call you Monday morning.”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye!” they call as Seraphina, her fiancé, and his brother disappear out of the front doors.

I slump against the wall. Thank God.

“Olivia!” I turn to see Giorgio, my boss. He’s wearing black business pants and a cream shirt with the top few buttons undone at the top. His honey hair is perfectly styled. He really is lovely.

“Oh, hello.” I smile.

He has his briefcase with him. “How about we grab that glass of wine?”

“What… now?” I frown.

“Why not? Do you have other plans?”

“No.” I stare at him for a moment. Why is he being so friendly? Seraphina said this is very uncharacteristic for him. “Yes, okay, sure.” I shrug. “Why not?”

He holds his arm out and I stare at it for a moment. Is he asking me out on a date?

“Oh, darling.” he scoffs, as if reading my mind. He grabs my hand and puts it around his arm. “You are the wrong sex for me. This is completely platonic.”

I smile, embarrassed that he just saw the fear on my face. “Thank goodness for that. I’ve had more than enough bad dates for one week.”

He laughs, and we walk out into the street with my hand linked around his arm. “So, tell me… how are you settling in?”

“Good. It will take a little time to get used to everything.”

He gestures to a bar and we walk in. “Is everyone being good to you at work?”

“Uh-huh.” I smile, even though that bitch Rosalie on reception is a rude pig.

“Shall we just sit at the bar?”

“Okay.” I smile as we go to take our seats there.

“What would you like to drink?”

“Maybe some Prosecco?”

“Great choice. Can we have two glasses of Prosecco, please? Vorremmo anche degli antipasti, per favore,” he tells the bartender. Translation: We will have some starters too, please.

“How is your hotel?” Giorgio turns back to me.

“Great.” I look around the beautiful bar. It’s dark and moody, and I’ll have to remember to come back to this place. “I’m going to start looking for an apartment this weekend.”

He rests his chin on his hand and smiles over at me.

“What?” I smirk.

“You’ve been to Italy before?”

“Yes, Rome and The Amalfi Coast.”

“When was that?”

“Two years ago.”

Our glasses of Prosecco are put down in front of us. Giorgio picks his up. “Two years. That’s a long time.”

I get the feeling he’s asking me these questions for a reason. “Why are you asking?”

He sips his wine. “No reason. Just curious.”

“Do you live around here?”

“In Milan. I’m originally from Sicily but have been here for ten years.”

“Oh.” I sip my wine and smile. “Hmm, this is nice.”

“It is,” he mutters, distracted. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Do you like Italian men?”

I wince against my glass. “Maybe.”

“Did you meet someone last time you were in Italy?”

I giggle at his eagerness for information. “I did, actually.”

He leans forward. “And?”

“It was just a weekend thing.”

“Did you hear from him again?”

“No and I don’t want to. He’s a total douche.”

“Really?” His eyes dance with delight. “Why is that?”

I shake my head. I’m not telling him that story. “He’s just a possessive asshole.”

He smiles against his glass, clearly delighted. “How wonderful. Don’t you just love it when they’re all possessive?”

I giggle. “Not really.”

“Do you think you’ll ever see him again?”

I raise my brows. “Funny you should say that. I ran into him last night.”

His eyes widen. “Here. In Milan?”

“Yes.”

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

“You seem very interested in my love life. Let’s talk about yours.”

“Mine’s boring.” He huffs. “I’ve been with the same man for ten years. I much prefer to live vicariously through my friends.”

I giggle. “Well, I was on a date with someone else, and he saw me. He marched over and caused a scene.”

He sits back and laughs out loud. “You were on a date with someone else? Oh, this is priceless.”

“Anyway, that’s all. There’s nothing else to tell.”

“Well, who knows when you’ll see him again?” He gives me a cheeky wink.

“Never, I hope.” Just the thought of that bastard makes my blood boil.

He raises his glass in the air. “Oh, I like you, Olivia. We need a toast.”

“What are we toasting?” I raise my glass, and smile.

“To making men jealous.”

I laugh out loud. Actually, that’s a pretty good toast. “To making men jealous.”

11

Olivia

I smile as I write the text and hit send.

I’m reporting you to Human Resources for being a bad influence.

I am wrecked.

Whose brilliant idea was it to drink four bottles of Prosecco on a Monday night?

I don’t know what the hell happened last night, but I left work thinking I was going straight home, and then somehow arrived home six hours later, drunk and disorderly. Giorgio is hilarious, and his boyfriend Angelo ended up coming and meeting us for dinner. He’s lovely, too.


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