Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Amo chuckled. “You can kiss me whenever you want.”
I shook my head. “I mean my technique.”
Amo slid his lips across mine, a soft friction that warmed my belly in the most perfect way. “It’s not about technique, but passion.”
Passion. I nodded. Passion was something you couldn’t grasp or learn, definitely not read up about. Then I took a step back so Amo could jump on the platform and I could take a look at the table. It was set for two. But I didn’t see food anywhere and I doubted there was a kitchen. “Sit down.”
Amo pulled back one of the chairs for me and I sank down. He squatted before a Styrofoam box which delivery services used to keep food warm and lifted the lid. Inside were several bags. He began to unload about two dozen boxes. “I wasn’t sure what you like to eat so I got Sushi, Chinese, Indian, Arabic and Italian food.”
My eyes grew wide when he opened the different cartons. Amo sank down across from me and held up a bottle of wine. I nodded, stunned by his consideration. After we clinked glasses, I piled my plate with hummus and pita, cucumber and avocado maki, and olives. All safe choices for me as a vegan.
We ate a few bites in silence. “You don’t eat meat?” Amo asked, motioning at the lamb shawarma on his plate.
“How do you know?”
“You scanned everything closely and you didn’t pick a single meaty starter.”
“I’m vegan.”
He narrowed his eyes in consideration then nodded. I allowed my eyes to roam the hall, trying to imagine past events. “This is where your father ripped out a man’s tongue for insulting your mother, right?”
Amo swallowed a piece of lamb and regarded me for a while as if he was trying to consider his reply. “Yes. I should have known you’ve heard about the gruesome stories of the Famiglia. Next time I’ll pick a different place.”
“Is there going to be a next time?” I asked as I ripped a piece off the pita bread and dunked it in the hummus.
Amo leaned back in his chair, ignoring his food. The way he looked at me made me feel impossibly hot. “I want there to be many more times.”
I wanted the same thing but he was supposed to marry in three weeks, and my family would never allow me to see Amo. I couldn’t see how we could make this happen, make us happen. As if Amo could sense the direction of my thoughts, he shook his head. “Only the moment counts.”
I smiled slightly.
“Are you going to dance for me?” Amo let his eyes glide over me. “You put on your ballet clothes after all.”
“If you want me to dance, I’ll do it. Do you have a special wish?”
Amo smiled wryly. “I don’t know that much about ballet, but maybe something from the Nutcracker? That’s one of the most famous ballets, right?”
“One of many, yes,” I said. I took my phone from my purse and picked the music then turned up the volume. My belly tightened with nerves when I put down the phone and walked a few steps away from the table and chairs to have room for my dance. Dancing in front of others always gave me a great deal of anxiety but the look on Amo’s face calmed my nerves. I closed my eyes when the first familiar notes rang out. This felt like one of the most special dances in my life and I wanted to pour all my passion and feelings into it.
The moment Greta had mentioned this place’s blood-thirsty past, I’d regretted my choice of having our date here, even if our choices were very limited. Now, with Greta standing amid the decrepit hall in her light pink tutu the contrast hit me like a sledgehammer. Her beauty and kindness in a building known for its ugly brutality. She lifted her arms as if pulled by strings, her body almost adrift as it moved to the notes from her mobile. The quality wasn’t the best and the vast hall didn’t carry the music very well, but I still sat in awe and watched Greta become one with the music. She twirled and jumped, raised her leg high above her head.
I could have watched her all night. When she held out her hand to me, I got up and let her pull me away from the chair. With her hand in mine, she circled me and I turned with her, as if I was pulled by invisible strings. She smiled brightly when I followed her lead and when she leaped toward me, I caught her by the waist automatically and lifted her. She seemed to fly over my head, her legs and arms extended elegantly. And then she let out a delighted laugh, light and carefree, and peered down at me with pure joy in her eyes. Slowly I lowered her back to the ground in front of me. She held my gaze and every creak of the old building, the distant sound of engines and sirens, everything faded to the background. “I’m going to kiss you.” I cupped her face, and kissed her. I snaked one arm around her waist and pulled her against me, needing her closer. Every time I met her, the pull got stronger. I’d never understood why people were willing to risk everything for someone who wasn’t close family, someone they barely knew but I finally began to understand.