by R. R. Banks
“Yes, it will be, though it will be awkwardly early,” replied Robert. “We will have a long enough layover in Milan for us to grab a spot of brunch, possibly with enough time to leave the station if we want to take a chance.”
Dillon smirked. “I’d rather not,” he stated. “I don’t want to take the chance of us missing the train because of our lunch taking a bit too long to reach the table.”
Robert laughed. “Quite true.”
“Right,” continued Dillon. “I’m sure we can find something at the food court or some other cheap place. Heck, I could almost go for subway food from New York right now, especially after all the fine dining I’ve done over the past month.”
“Really? Subway food?”
“Don’t knock it, sir,” defended Dillon. “Some of the best food I’ve ever had has come from a cart, a truck, or some greasy looking stall.”
Robert shook his head. “I’m going to take your word for that.”
“Hey, sometimes you need to break out of your comfort zone and really get down into what the locals experience,” explained Dillon. “You can’t fully understand the area you’re operating in until you try what the people who actually live there do.”
Robert scoffed. “I’d rather not,” he replied. “I mean, I know what I like, and I don’t tend to branch out very often, especially when it comes to food that I think could potentially kill me.”
Dillon laughed. “They say something will eventually get you.”
“And I would like to not be gotten for several decades.”
“That’s a fair answer,” joked Dillon. “I just look to shave the bad years off my life.”
Robert leaned back in his chair as the train started to take off. “But the quantity of bad years is still an unknown to your equation.”
Dillon shrugged as he pulled out his phone, feeling it vibrate in his pocket. “Texting Marisol?” joked Robert, prodding Dillon.
“Actually, yes,” he replied, shocking his friend. “I had a great time with her last night.”
Robert’s eyes widened as he leaned forward in his chair. “You were dreading the date beforehand. What changed your mind?”
“Camille,” replied Dillon. “For some reason, she was able to break her out of her shell and really get her to open up, especially after the two of you left.” Dillon paused as he finished his text and placed his phone on the seat beside him. “To begin with, nothing happened that would pique your overly grotesque curiosity, so go ahead and forget about those ideas. However, we really enjoyed each other’s company and want to see where it goes from here.”
“Really?” asked Robert. “Do you think you want a relationship with her?”
“Perhaps,” replied Dillon. “She’s smart, funny, and surprisingly outgoing, but you wouldn’t think any of that if you just met her since she’s so reserved. We talked a lot about that and why she can never come out of her shell around people because her father wants her to be that way. Her father has preached to her that the woman in a relationship is supposed to be quiet, meek, and appear subservient to her partner, which is not what she wants. Marisol wants to be heard. She has her own ambitions and her own desires. She wants a man who is successful, but is also not afraid to try new things and take a risk of failing. She doesn’t want her father, who is super controlling and keeps her locked away, arranging relationships for her with men that want to be like him. She wants a man who will allow her to live her life, acknowledging that she will be devoted to him while still being able to have the freedom she currently doesn’t possess under her father’s roof.”
Dillon paused a bit as Robert looked at him with an intense inquisitiveness. “So, she wants to have a man who will give her freedom?”
“Yes, but the problem is, her father can’t know she has it until she’s married,” answered Dillon. “So, we’re texting now, and she may come to meet me in Zurich tonight if she can convince her father to allow it.”
“Oh, so you probably won’t see her again,” said Robert. “Sorry.”
Dillon shrugged. “Well, maybe,” replied Dillon with hope. “Her dad set us up, and I proved to be a much different person than he thought I was. Hopefully, Marisol will be able to convince her father to allow her to keep seeing me and depict me as the man that he thinks that I am, with perhaps a few differing things that won’t skew his opinion too far.”
“You’re going to try and pull the wool over his eyes,” mentioned Robert. “I wonder how he’ll react if she ever gets married and changes her ways from being reclusive to much more open.”
“He won’t have much of a choice but to get over it,” said Dillon. “She knows what she wants, and she’s willing to go against her father to make it happen. It’s honorable.” Dillon picked up his phone again and replied to the incoming text message. “So, what happened with you and Camille last night? Can I expect to see her again?”
Robert laughed. “A gentleman never tells all of the details,” he replied, giving Dillon the same treatment he offered to him. “But, I really hope so. She and I had a connection last night that was superb and something that I’ve never really experienced with someone before.”
Dillon typed on his phone as he listened in. “So, you’re going to see her again?”
“That’s the plan,” replied Robert. “I tried to convince her to come with me on this trip, but unfortunately, she had a meeting she had to be at this morning.”
“Already looking to travel with her?”
“It’s a business trip in a fun city,” explained Robert. “Besides, it’s going to be cold so maybe we could stay an extra day and hit up the slopes of the Alps.”
Dillon smiled. “I forget you actually ski.”
“Quite well,” bragged Robert. “It’s one of those things that I don’t tell many people about and not anything that I go out of my way to do, but if I happen to be in a mountainous region during the colder months, I’ll rent some gear and hit up the slopes.”
“Are you assuming she could ski?” asked Dillon.
“Perhaps,” he replied. “It’ll be cold, so there would be plenty of time to stay indoors and keep each other warm.”
Dillon laughed as he returned the text to Marisol. “I suppose things could be much worse. Both of us actually had a good time with our dates last night. Normally, it’s a much different encounter.”
“Usually,” replied Robert. “Though we don’t get to go out as much as I would like, whenever we do and bring dates, normally it’s just a fling with both of us after the same thing. Perhaps we’re both getting older and changing our ways?”
“No, I think we’re getting older and realizing what we want in life is no longer a quick encounter with a beautiful woman, but something a bit more meaningful,” said Dillon with a smile. “It takes years of figuring out what you don’t want to finally figure out what you need.”
Robert grinned as he pulled his phone out, looking down to see a message appearing in front of him. I had a great time last night. I hope I get to see you again soon. Robert smiled as he returned the text message, saying how much he enjoyed seeing her and that they would have to make that happen. While never being one to embrace flirting through text message, Robert felt a need to embrace this exchange as he felt a genuine connection with Camille. Without much consent from Dillon, Robert placed his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, knowing that the train would stop soon in Milan and they could continue about their preparations. But with the lack of sleep from the previous evening, Robert could barely stay awake.
Dillion watched as Robert succumbed to his sleepless night. He wasn’t about to let Robert know just how wonderful of a night he’d had with Marisol. How special it had been. He thought about as he too tried get in a quick nap.
They were sitting out on his balcony, having talked about various topics, snuggled close to each other watching the stars as they twinkled in the clear sky. Dillion was surprised by how much he was enjoying just
cuddling with Marisol. He couldn’t believe this was the same woman he had picked up for dinner earlier in the evening. She had blossomed so much after meeting Camille.
“This has been such an incredible evening, thank you for such a wonderful time.” stated Marisol as she moved to look up into Dillion’s eyes.
“You are very welcome, thank you for agreeing to go out with me.” as he leaned down to place a kiss on her lips.
The moment his lips touched hers, she stiffened in his arms.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” said Dillion as she moved back, out of his embrace.
“No, it’s just… I have wanted to do that for the last hour, but it scares me because I have never wanted to kiss before. Father sets up all of my dates, the same as he set us up. But you are different, you’re not some pompous fool, who’s a yes man to my father. I actually really like you.” Marisol admitted while she rose to stand by the railing of the balcony.
Dillion came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I like you too, and I will never force you to do something you don’t want to do.” he said as he hugged he close.
“I would love to try that kiss again.”
“Your wish is my command, sweetness.” as he turned her toward him. He lightly ran his fingers down her cheek, stopping under her chin to slightly lift it up as his lips came to meet hers. This time she placed her arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss.
“My God,” thought Dillion to himself, “When did kissing feel this good?”
The train squealed into the stop without Robert feeling as if he had achieved any real sleep. He opened his eyes and felt a bit groggy, looking across to see Dillon looking startled as he too woke up. “It wasn’t worth it, was it?” he asked Dillon who looked better worse for wear.
“I think I slept great for about ten minutes,” he replied with a faint yawn. “I think the rest of it was me stuck in that place between sleep and thought.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s where I stayed,” continued Robert as he rose to his feet and grabbed his bag. “Come on. If we can get off here first, we can try and get a few extra minutes in the terminal.”
Dillon nodded in approval as he rose to his feet and placed his arms over his head, stretching himself out while attempting to clear his mind of the night before. He reached back and grabbed his bag, and walked out of the private seating area and into the aisle before the rest of the passengers could fill it. They moved quickly toward the back of the train, walking out the door to find a baggage steward waiting for connecting passengers.
“Switzerland,” said Robert as he and Dillon gave him their bags and showed him the electronic boarding pass so that they could be properly tagged and waiting for them on the next train.
“Does that not worry you?” asked Dillon as they walked away, looking back to see both of their bags placed in a large bin with a blue tag on each handle.
“All the time,” stated Robert with a sly grin. “In all honesty, it’s a lot better that they handle my luggage than me having to carry it around everywhere. As often as I take the Eurail, they’ve only misplaced my luggage once, and I got it sent to my hotel a few hours later. Unfortunately, in this world, mistakes happen from time to time.”
“Right, mistakes do happen,” reiterated Dillon as he got an uneasy feeling in his stomach. “I just never let anyone take my luggage, so it makes me a bit worried to see it going with someone else.”
Robert looked at his friend as they walked through the terminal toward the food court. “How do you never let anyone touch your bags?” he asked.
“I typically only fly on a private jet, and I can do whatever I want with my luggage,” he explained. “I never leave my luggage with a concierge and always follow the bellman up with it, unless I take it to my room myself.”
Robert smirked. “That’s awfully peculiar.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re a billionaire who has a phobia of letting people do things for you,” he explained sarcastically. I honestly love it when my luggage is dealt with for me. It’s one less thing I have to drag through an airport or train terminal.”
Dillon shrugged his shoulders as he looked around at the scenery, noticing all the advertisements and people on benches, as well as the eclectic mix of people around that were traveling to various destinations. “It’s not often that I get to be in a place like this,” he said with a hint of excitement. “Is it always this busy?”
“Always,” replied Robert, focusing his eyes on the food court ahead of him. “As much as you like to enjoy the culture of cities and what not, we really need to get you in some of the busier airports in the world on a Friday. I wonder how well you could handle Heathrow Airport in London.”
Dillon shook his head. “I fly on private jets for a reason.”
The two entered the food court and looked around the area. Dillon stepped forward to get a better look, but because of the time, not many of them were open. “There’s Greek,” pointed Dillon, prompting Robert to immediately disagree.
“That’s not Greek,” he said with disgust. “That’s imitation Greek that will turn your stomach into battery acid.”
“Ah, it can’t be that bad,” said Dillon as he stepped forward with Robert behind him. “I’m sure I’ve had worse in Grand Central Station.”
Robert walked up to see what was being served and immediately turned his nose up at it. “Dillon, that’s not food.”
“Sure it is,” he replied. “You can’t always judge a book by its cover.”
“That looks revolting,” continued Robert. “If my grandmother was alive right now and saw this, I’m positive she would go behind the counter and commit assault.”
Dillon laughed as he walked up to the counter. “Let me get a lamb gyro,” he ordered, looking back at Robert. “You sure you don’t want anything?”
“Just get me a bottle of water,” he replied, still disgusted by the sight of the food being served.
“Two bottles of water, too,” continued Dillon, handing the girl at the counter his credit card and quickly receiving the bottles of water. With a quick turn, he walked back and handed Robert the water with an awkward smile, immediately turning back to see that his food was ready.
Dillon sat across from Robert, who was protesting brunch as none of the restaurants in the terminal were open and that the Greek restaurant did not serve anything he deemed edible. Dillon picked up his plastic fork with Robert judging him briefly before placing it in the Italian-style gyro. He chewed slowly, looking at Robert with a slowly changing expression before picking up his napkin and placing what was in his mouth directly into it. “Okay, that was a mistake.”
“I told you that it would be,” replied Robert as he returned a text message on his phone to Camille. “It seems like Camille is getting out of her meeting a bit earlier than planned.”
Dillon reached forward and grabbed his bottle of water to rinse out his mouth from the revolting gyro. He swished the water around in his mouth before swallowing and making another disgusted face. “That didn’t make it much better,” he said reluctantly. “That’s good for her, too, by the way.”
“Yeah, she told me she’s going to take the rest of the afternoon to catch up on some sleep,” he replied with an incredibly coy disposition, grinning with a sly expression as he placed his phone back in his pocket. “I guess she was a bit out of sorts this morning.”
“Did you drug her?” joked Dillon. “I’ve never heard any story from you involving a woman not being well rested the next day.”
“Ha… ha…” stated Robert sarcastically as he pointed to Dillon’s gyro. “I’d say you could go eat some crow, but I’m almost positive you just did.”
Dillon shook his head. “This was supposed to be a lamb gyro,” he replied. “This tastes nothing like a gyro, or even food for that matter.”
Robert nodded. “Hence why I’m going to wait and eat on the train.”
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“I probably should have followed your lead,” he replied. “I just felt I could try eating something like this, because how hard is it to screw up a gyro?”
“You’re in Italy, not Greece,” stated Robert in a matter-of-fact tone. “If you want a good gyro, I’ll take you to my family’s winery and get one of the workers there to show you how to make one.”
Dillon laughed. “Oh yeah,” he realized. “I forgot you were Greek.”
“Technically, I’m British, but my family is from Greece and they know how to make gyros.” Robert paused a bit to look back at the station clock, seeing how an hour had passed since they got off the first train. With the long walk from the terminals to the food court, he shifted his chair back and reached for his bottle of water. “If you’re not going to eat that filth, toss it out and we can go ahead and work our way back through the terminal,” he said astutely. “Once the train is here, we can board and head to the dining car and get them to take care of us before we depart.”
With a subtle nod, Dillon pushed is chair back. “That’s probably the best idea you have had all day, sir.”
“I’m hoping to have a lot more.”
Dillon and Robert stepped away from the tables as Dillon picked up his tray and walked it over to the garbage. Both holding bottles of water, the two of them walked through the terminal without anything else in their possession, saying small prayers to themselves that their luggage would end up in their cabin on the next train. They walked at a nice, calm pace, as the train wouldn’t depart for another few hours, though the time that it arrived was a bit of a mystery. They followed the same path they took before, though this time much more casually, looking at all the ads on the side of the walls and the various people sitting on the benches, waiting for their layovers to end. The station was busy, yet peaceful as neither of the businessmen were in a hurry.
They made it to the platform to see the train pull into the station. “Wow, perfect timing,” said Robert as he looked out to see the train coming to a stop and the passengers preparing to disembark. “We may get some time to take a nap as well.”
