Free A Soul Mate's Promise by Robin H Soprano Page B

overlooking the ocean. The pinks and violets of the setting sun in the sky is very romantic.
    “You really are beautiful tonight,” he whispers as he settles his cloth napkin in his lap.
    I roll my eyes and turn bright red judging from the heat in my cheeks. “Sal, you’re embarrassing me!” I laughed waving my hand at him.
    “Sorry,” he says with a big smile playing on his lips, “but you really have got to learn how to take compliments.”
    Before I can take a sip of my water, the tuxedo-clad waiter comes up to the table and introduces himself as Gerard. In his French accent, he asks if we would care for cocktails or a bottle of wine.
    Sal looks up at him and starts speaking French like a native. All I can do is listen and stare like a deer caught in headlights. I check to make sure my mouth isn’t hanging open.
    Sal looks over to me. “Gracie, would you like red or white wine tonight?”
    Wine? All of that sexy talk is about wine? French is almost as sexy as Italian, I decide. “R-Red. I would like red.”
    Sal continues in French. I can only make out Boujoules or Bordeaux.
    “Very well monsieur .” The waiter answers with a bow and leaves us.
    “Okay,” I start with a wrinkle in my nose, “I know you speak Italian, but French too?”
    Sal laughs. “I speak a bunch of different languages: Spanish, German, Russian, Farsi, French. Had to learn it for my work.”
    The waiter comes back with our bottle of wine and makes Sal test it before pouring it for us. Sal approves and Gerard fills our glasses and puts the bottle on the table. He leaves us to look over the menu.
    “So you had to learn to speak all those languages for work? What exactly was your job with the military?”
    Sal takes a big gulp of his wine and sits back in his chair like someone has let the air out of him. “I was Special Ops. I can’t really tell you much, but I had to go to a lot of different countries and stay there for months. Sometimes a year.”
    I raise my eyebrows. “You can’t tell me much? What the hell were you, like 007? James Bond stuff?” I joke.
    There’s no smile on his face. “Close. I guess you could say that.”
    The waiter returns to find me in stunned silence again and asks if we have questions about the menu.
    “Oh?” I say, “I didn’t even look at it yet.”
    Sal looks at Gerard and has yet another French conversation. Hearing several words that I can figure out, I gather Sal is ordering our dinner.
    Gerard responds with, “Superb monsieur , I’ll bring you some bread.”
    Sal picks up his wineglass and smiles, but I sense he’s uncertain. I smile back. I wonder if he’s not as confident about this date as he’d have me think.
    “I hope you don’t mind but I ordered for both of us. I talked with Pop, he said you’re not very picky. I ordered a couple of appetizers to try and then a surf and turf entrée. Will that be okay?”
    Now I grin at him. “Well, you did good with the entrées but what else did you order?”
    “You’ll see,” he says with a wink. “I think you’ll be fine with it.”
    I press on with the conversation about his job. I want to know where he has been, what he’s seen. I want to know everything about him.
    “Sal, did you ever have to kill anyone?” I ask in a whisper, expecting him to laugh his head off.
    “Yes, Gracie,” he answers in a very quiet voice. He holds my gaze with his, his promise to be honest with me ringing in my ears.
    “I have killed.” He blows out a sigh, a look of sadness crosses his face and is gone so fast maybe I imagined it. “I don’t like to talk about it.”
    I watch as the look on his face turns serious and dark. I get a little nervous because he looks like he disappeared for a moment.
    “Hey,” I say, hoping to bring him back to me, “it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about any of it. I’m sorry, I’m just curious. I want to know all about the man who calls me beautiful and gives me passionate kisses when I least expect