Читать книгу And Then There Is Love - Lori Buckman - Страница 11

Before his shift started, Silvio was called into Barbara’s office. She imagined him facing her across the desk and holding his hand out for his pink slip and his last check. Instead, he followed her down the hall humming ‘Mai Piu Cosi Lontano,’ and when they reached the office he crooned, “Signorina, please,” as he held the door open for her. She sat and beginning to blush, busied herself with moving the articles about on her desk - her phone, message pad, the pencil holder, etc. She even pushed the computer further back against the wall. She felt extremely embarrassed, especially when remembering her sexy daydreaming. Her eyes couldn’t meet his. How was she going to broach the subject of dinner at her place? If he wasn’t to be reprimanded or fired, he might feel that turning down her invitation would definitely be a reason for either happening. How could she ask him if he felt that he had to accept?

Finally she said gently to Silvio, “Now, you don’t have to. You won’t be fired if you…” Her eyes rose to his figure. He was leaning against the door with his arms crossed and still humming. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned. How dare he? He should be worried or nervous. Maybe I should fire him. She pressed her lips together and brushed the formerly neatly straightened contents of her desktop away, either to the right or left. Then she rested one elbow on the cleared area in front of her and waited for an explanation of his rude behavior. But his smile broadened as he met her eyes that had begun to narrow in annoyance. Her nostrils flared, “What’re you looking at!”

“You turn red.”

“Red? Oh, blushing.” She waved her explanation aside. “You’d blush too if you were about to ask someone to come to dinner and before you asked, they smiled like that.”

His smile faded and he looked down as if properly chastened. “I am sorry.”

She calmed herself and sat up, saying officiously, “Would you like to have a little dinner with me?” She hurried on, “I mean, Carol and her new boyfriend, John, are coming also (she hadn’t even asked her or him).” When he didn’t answer her immediately she looked away from him and mumbled, “I mean you don’t have to, you know.”

He answered, “You ask me to eat with you? Si, I am happy to eat with you. When?”

She hadn’t decided that. She scrambled for an answer. The answer was contingent on Carol’s possible availability – Friday? - and her own negligible talent in the kitchen. What would they have that she knew how to cook or should she research Italian foods or would she need to consult her one recipe book? If all else failed, she could always contact Giovanni’s. “Friday? How about Friday?” She had to ask Carol quickly.

When Silvio left, Barbara poked her head out of the door and called anxiously, “Carol?” When she didn’t answer she hurried out to the lounge. Wiping the mahogany bar, her friend raised her eyebrows and waited for her to speak. “Come to dinner Friday night?”

Carol set down the rag. “Friday… I’m sorry but John and I are going to the Blue Horse that night. I don’t think so.”

”But I invited…you know.”

Carol’s knowing look was comical. “Oh, well then. Now I don’t know what John will say but…sure.”