I answer the door. There’s Sal freshly showered and smelling of cologne. He too has on a nice pair of dark blue jeans with a white tailored shirt and a black vest. His hair is brushed back off his face, hanging in loose curls to his collar. I just stare in awe, hoping I’m not drooling, but even if I am, I can’t do anything about it. His laughter breaks the spell.
“Hello, Gracie, you ready to go?” he asks. Before I can answer, he grabs me around the waist and gives me another toe-curling kiss. When he lets me go, I can feel my face turning the color of a ripe watermelon.
“You look beautiful! I’ve been waiting all day for that kiss,” he says with his little half smile.
We drive the Beast along A1A and enjoy the beachside breeze. Sal pulls into Bistro Mediterranean, which sits right on the beach.
When Sal opens the door and ushers me inside, I catch my breath. It’s like something out of a fairy tale, with small, candle lit tables set with black tablecloths.
A pretty blonde woman at a hostess desk welcomes us with a warm smile.
“We have reservations,” Sal says, holding my hand at his side. He gives her his name and she consults the book on her desk.
“Right this way, Mr. Petroni.” Her accent isn’t Italian, but she certainly has one that rolls the “r” and makes it sound musical. I giggle and Sal squeezes my hand.
“After you, Princess.” He lets my hand go and I feel a light touch at the small of my back as he guides me through the tables.
We follow the hostess to a quaint little table 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 it.”
Sal smiles and raises his wineglass. “Here’s to us and our new start in life.”
We clink glasses and like the genie in the bottle, Gerard appears with our bread, followed by another server with two dishes. Gerard takes them from him and places them on our table. “Enjoy!” he says.
I look down at the plate and see escargot. Sal is looking at me with eyebrows raised, waiting for my reaction.
“I love escargot!” I nearly shout.
He draws in a breathy sigh of relief. “I thought you would, but I took a big guess. Pop was right – you do have a love for good food!”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” I say as I pick up my tiny fork and aim for the butter and garlic soaked snail. “My parents owned a small Italian restaurant in New York City when I was very young. I think when you’re raised around the cultures that a big city offers you, I guess you just get accustomed to a different variety of foods. I am not finicky when it comes to food. I have had some friends that just could not eat or even try new things, which is a little sad, I think.”
I’m relieved to see that Sal’s relaxing again now that we’ve gotten away from the topic of his work history. Odd that I can be so comfortable with a person who has killed people, and yet somehow, I understand him and I’m not afraid of him.
He asks me all about my life growing up, and what kind of student I was and how many boyfriends I had. I answered his questions until we finished our meal and all the wine.
“Don’t get dessert,” he says, “there is somewhere I want to go.”
“Okay!” I say sounding a little too giddy and definitely buzzed.
Sal pays the check and with his arm firmly around my waist to help steady tipsy me on my four inch heels, we leave the restaurant laughing like children. His laughter stirs something deep inside me that assures me I will always be all right with him. Before we step off the curb, someone calls my name. “Grace?”
Thanks to the wine and the company, I don’t freeze, but my stomach lurches just a little. Sal’s arm tightens as we turn toward the voice. I’m sobering up fast.
We stand staring at Richard and Camille. I’m ready to run, Sal holds me tight against his side.
“What are you doing here?” Richard asks.
“Ummm, we had dinner?” What else would we be doing at a restaurant?
“Hello.” he says to Sal, and sticks out his hand. “I’m Richard Boumont, Grace’s husband.”
I thought Camille was going to swallow her tongue.
“Really, Richard,” Camille chimes in, “you’re practically divorced. Hi, I’m Camille James, Richard’s fiancée. And you are?”
I quickly answer. “This is Salvatore Petroni.”
“Oh?” says Camille. “How long have you been dating? You two seem pretty close.”
“It’s still in the getting-to-know-you stage but—”
Sal cuts me off mid sentence. “Yes, we are close. I’m working on some of Gracie’s trust issues. You know the ones that come with betrayal and cruelty?”
Camille’s standing there with her mouth hanging open. Richard on the other hand, apparently hasn’t heard a word that Sal’s said.
Richard is still repeating Sal’s last name. “Petroni..Petroni. I know that name. You’re not Antonio’s son are you?”
“Yes, I am,” Sal answers.
“I thought you were like off in the military for life or something. Never met you before.”
Sal nods slightly. “I was a Marine, I served, I’m done. Now if you two will excuse us, we’re going to finish with our date. Good night.”
“Grace, call me tomorrow,” Richard calls to my back. “We have things to discuss.”
I stop and turn and Sal stands beside me. “No, we don’t Richard. I have nothing to talk to you about. Talk to my lawyer.”
Sal turns us and we walk in silence back to the car.
We get in the car and Sal motions to me with a lift of his cleft chin. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.” I say with a chuckle. “That was fun. I’m glad you were with me, it helped, but, I think it’s killing my buzz.”
“Well, I think I have just the fix!” he says. He drives up the road a few miles and pulls into Guido’s Gelato.
“Oooh,” I croon, “I love gelato!” “I thought you might.” He parks the car, helps me get out of the low seat and we walk inside to a flavor list that’s longer than the constitution.
“What would you like, Gracie?” Sal asks me.
“Okay,” I say. “You ready for this? I want a scoop of the cappuccino flavor and a scoop of strawberry cheesecake!” I look at him with my mouth in a yummy smile.
“Gracie, you have dimples! I never noticed them before.”
I put my hands on my cheeks and feel their heat. Sal grabs my hands and pulls them away from my face.
“Stop, they’re adorable,” he says. “Don’t be embarrassed. I never want you to be embarrassed with me. You have no reason to be.”
We get our treats and head outside. I’m two spoons into mine when I lean over to see what’s in his cup.
“What is yours?” I ask with a mouthful of my weird combination.
He smiles and says, “Amaretto.”
“Oh, I like that, too!” I tell him. “I like the liqueur, it was always a favorite of mine.” Sal laughs.
“Is there anything you don’t like, Gracie?”
“Ummm… not really?” I laugh with him.
“Ahh good, you’re laughing,” he says. “I like when you’re laughing”. He points to the beach. “Walk with me, Princess?”
“Oh..” I say, wrinkling my nose. “I don’t think I have the right shoes for walking on the sand.”
Sal looks down at my feet and back up at me with a look of determination. He hands me his gelato, then kneels down and taps one of my feet.
“Lift” he says. He slid off one of my sandals then does the same with the other foot. Then he rolls up the bottoms of my jeans and pats my feet. He removes his shoes too and places our footwear in the car.
“Okay,” he says, swiping his hands together. “Problem solved.”
We walk out to the beach, both of us quiet as we eat our gelato’s.
“Gracie, what was the biggest thing Richard did during the time you two were married that made you upset with him?”
“That’s a difficult question,” I say. “Well, it just wasn’t one thing. But if I had to put it in a nutshell, I guess after a while I felt I was a problem to him, like an obstacle in his way. I think he thought I was holding him back because I wanted my husband home with me and he put business first.” I stopped walking and faced the ocean.
“He would bring clients home for dinner or he would take them out. In the beginning I would go with them, then he decided it was better if I wasn’t around. He said I was an embarrassment because I couldn’t keep up with the business conversations. I would get tired and yawn out of boredom no matter how I fought it. Clients would joke and ask if they were keeping me up. Rich didn’t think it was funny.
“He would never come to my defense. He always thought I was the one who wasn’t trying hard enough or I should take the time to learn the business. But I never had any interest in it and he couldn’t understand that. It wasn’t any problem when we married, only after he inherited the family business. Then I was supposed to be some corporate wife of an up and coming tycoon.” I could feel Sal’s eyes on me.
“This would cause fights?”
“Oh, big ones,” I answer. “I was always wrong, in his eyes.” I start to walk again, Sal at my side. “Maybe I could have tried harder, I don’t know. At some point maybe I realized it wouldn’t make any difference and then I’d have lost myself, too.”
“Gracie did he ever hit you?” Sal asks softly.
“No, just the verbal fights. I would cry and that would piss him off even more. I truly don’t know him like I thought I did. The things he would get mad at me for were so stupid. The way he would yell at me sometimes scared me. I thought he was going crazy and needed help.”
We start to walk back toward the dunes. Sal tosses our empty cups in the garbage pail. “All of this happened after he took over the company, you said?” Sal asks, reaching for my hand again.
“Sort of. I saw some early signs, but yeah, it got really bad after that..”
“Sal, why did you want to know all this?”
“Because I want to make sure I don’t make any of the same mistakes, but I think its pretty safe to say that I don’t think I can. Now I can’t say people don’t have fights, but I would never disrespect you like he did.”
I stop walking, Sal turns to look at me, I’m so overwhelmed with emotion, I look away. Sal searches my face, then captures it in his hands and gently draws me into him.
His kiss is electric and as he presses me against him I can feel him harden through his jeans.
As our tongues seek each other, I’m almost gasping for breath, but it’s not anxiety driving my breathlessness. When we stop to take a breath, he brushes the hair out of my eyes like he has done before. That little gesture is such a small thing, but it’s the act of caring that impacts me.
Sal can be as affectionate as I used to be, long to be. I’m falling for him and it terrifies me.
Still and quiet Sal just holds me, the waves crashing on the shore and the wind surrounding us.
“Lets get you home Princess, before we’re doing something you might regret.”
I laugh. “You have been the perfect gentleman.”
“Thank you,” he says with an exaggerated bow. “I’ve got to take my time with you and be patient. You can trust me.” Then something makes him laugh. ”If you told Pop I wasn’t, he would kick my ass!” We laugh together for a moment. “Come on lets go,” he says, leading me back to the car.
We got back to the Viper and started for home. On the way he pulled out a Nickel Back CD. “I love these guys, you?”
“Yes very much!” I answer.
Soon the car is filled with the song Far Away; Sal holds my hand the whole way home. I feel so completely safe.
* * *
“I’ll be right back.” I say once we’re back at my place and he’s pouring us Amarettos. “I’m going to change my clothes.”
I run upstairs and change into my yoga pants and a tee shirt and clip my frizzy hair back.
Downstairs, I spot Sal. His shirt’s untucked and the vest is on the arm of the couc
h. I like how he looks in my living room and I just look at his back for a minute. Then I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.
He turns, smiles, and reaches down to the side table. “Here you go,” he says, handing me a little glass of the amber colored liquid over ice. We clink our glasses.
“Salute,” we toast in unison.
“Let’s go sit over on the couch,” I say, pointing with my thumb.
He sits squarely in the middle and I curl up on the corner tucking my legs up under me. Sal takes a long sip and closes his eyes..
“What time do you go to bed?” he asks.
“When I’m tired,” I answer. “But tonight I’m waiting till after midnight. I have a close friend I grew up with back north. We call each other at midnight. It’s our special time.”
Sal’s eyebrows form that frown I’m learning to recognize. “Why is it a special time?”
I smile. “She has two daughters and a husband. At the time when I was married too, we found it hard to catch up if everyone was around, so we’d wait till everyone is asleep. This way we are not disturbed."
“Ahhh.” he says, “I see. So am I here to keep you awake till midnight?”
I giggle and sip my drink. “Busted,” I say with a laugh.
“So, what are your plans for tomorrow?”
“Well, twice a month I take Toby over to the nursing home and to the children’s hospital too. Everyone loves to pet or play with a dog and Toby loves the attention.”
“That’s really cool, Gracie.”
“Yeah, I love to see the kid’s faces. It makes them so happy. Staying at a hospital for a kid can be so devastating and boring. Going to the nursing home, well, it makes some of the elderly calmer. Would you like to come with us?”
“Oh, I would love to but tomorrow I got a couple of appointments. But another time, definitely.”
I incline my head toward him. “More doctor’s appointments?”
“Yeah,” he says. “No big deal.”
“Sal, why do you need all these appointments? Is there something else going on? You can talk to me. You know a lot of all my crap.”
A Soul Mate's Promise Page 7
