only wants to be
friends? You just said everything went like clockwork.”
Suddenly losing his appetite for a good, punishing workout,
Leo stopped jumping completely. “She was like putty in my hands.” Literally ,
Leo mused remembering her body moving over him as he spanked her. “But she
stopped me before we could do anything else. Instead of admitting she wanted
me, she pulled the friendship card and decided to find someone more compatible
online.”
Salvatore looked as if he was about to croak. “Online? Like
from Amazon?”
Leo started looping the rope around his hand. “No. She
signed up on a matchmaking service.” Not really the truth, but a man of
Salvatore’s age couldn’t handle the truth.
Salvatore scratched the back of his head, pushing his wool
paperboy hat forward over his brow. “I know this is none of my business, but
doesn’t that seem a little whacked?”
Leo grinned. “Not really. I know dozens of people who’ve
found love online. And some of them ended up happily married.”
Salvatore looked dubious. “Any of them still married?”
“Every single one.”
“I don’t know your Roxanne as well as you, but something
about a computer matching her up with a total stranger doesn’t sit well with an
old-fashioned codger like me.”
“Didn’t you tell me your great aunt fixed you up with Pier?”
Salvatore’s face softened. Pier Cipriani had been the love
of his life. The pair had been married for more than forty years before she
passed away three years ago. “Ah yeah, but that’s different.”
Leo walked over to the nearest wall and hung the rope on a
hook. “If I remember correctly, the two of you exchanged letters for six
months, sight unseen. And five days after she stepped off the train from New
York, you were married.”
Salvatore nodded absently, his thoughts most likely
somewhere in the past. Leo envied him. Salvatore Cipriani had married his best
friend.
“I still don’t trust what you young people call technology,”
Salvatore said, sitting down on a nearby bench. “She could meet some stalker,
or even worse, a murderer. Aren’t you the least bit concerned she’s meeting
other men? Ones she can’t even pick out of a police lineup?”
Leo sat down next to Salvatore and placed his hand over the
old man’s in an attempt to comfort him. Leo loved him as much as his own
father.
“You kids and your silly pride,” Salvatore grunted. “Don’t
come crying to me when you end up the best man at her wedding.”
“It might be too late. I think she’s already met someone.”
Salvatore balled his fingers and began to swear in Italian.
By the time he was done, his cheeks were flushed from exasperation. “I know
there’s no talking you into something, but for my peace of mind, if you’re not
going to pursue her, make sure she meets this guy as soon as possible. All this
man-of-mystery stuff is crazy and better left for the movies or some soap
opera.”
“How can I warn her when she won’t even answer my calls?” Leo
palmed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to see her with anyone else…I’m in
love with her.”
“How about you tell her what you just told me?”
“Tell her what?”
“That you love her. It’s different than just telling her you
want to be her lover . And the sooner the better. I want grandchildren I
can stuff with baklava and take to the zoo.”
“You already have sixteen grandchildren, and one on the
way.” Salvatore started chuckling. Soon they were both laughing together. “Do
you even know how to make Baklava?” Leo asked.
“No.” Salvatore coughed a little as he chuckled. “But for
you, the Greek son I never had, I’ll learn.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Salvatore pushed himself up from the bench. “And I’ll hold
you to squaring things with your Roxanne. If you don’t, there won’t be a need
to learn how to make baklava.”
* * * * *
Twenty-four hours came sooner than Roxanne had hoped. She
was a bundle of