The Italian: A Mountain Man Romance Page 4

  “Sure,” she said, laughing. “For that, amongst other things.”

  Chapter 8

  Scrolling. That’s all Dom had been doing for the past hour, and he wanted to rip his hair out. The website wasn’t kidding when it said over 5 million people were on there. He couldn’t find her. He searched her name, and there were so many Annas, he wanted to scream, but he continued on, and from what he could tell, none of them were who he was looking for. Blonde? Yes. Blue-eyed? Yes. But his? No. So when he got to the last page of Annas, he decided to try a different way to find her. What did he know about her?

  Not much. Dom sighed.

  Gelato grumbled and scratched at the door. He wanted to go for a walk.

  “Not right now, buddy.”

  He whined and scratched at the door. Dom scrolled a little more before opening the door.

  “Fine. You want to go out? You go on your own.”

  Gelato huffed a bit and ran out the door. He didn’t need Dom at all; he could walk himself.

  Dom chuckled as he walked back to the computer. He and his dog were too alike sometimes.

  Back to today's task. He wouldn't give up until he found her. So what else did he know? He knew Anna was beautiful, funny, and liked to eat. She held her camera like it was her baby. Her camera! That’s what led them to meet in the first place. Her trying to take pictures. He searched photographer and skimmed a bit. Not seeing her he tried the word “camera.”

  Bingo.

  CameraChick. There she was, staring at him with one big blue eye wide open and searching, staring into his soul. The other was squinted behind the huge camera, the same one he'd rescued when he had found her.

  He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his growing beard. He found her. Now what?

  Dom couldn’t believe Anna was on this site. The idea of her, waiting for someone to buy her time was frustrating. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He was on edge, maybe a little jealous, too. He was feeling a little too much, disappointed that a woman he liked so much would be on a site like this, and angry that a woman on a site like this had him all over the place.

  His mouse hovered over the Contact Anna button as he weighed the risks. This was a risk. What was it about this woman that he couldn’t leave her alone? Why did he need to talk to her? Now that he knew how to contact her, could he resist?

  He left-clicked and stared as the empty message box appeared. She was worth the risk. He needed to see her again. He needed to say something. The little blinking line made him feel stupid, and there was so much on his mind that he decided to keep it simple. Starting slowly never hurt anybody.

  D: Hi.

  He pressed send and smiled at the light feeling in his chest. He hoped she responded. She wouldn’t know it was him either by his profile picture because it was just a picture of his abs, not his face. He stared at the computer for a minute, willing her to message him back before walking away to grab a beer. There was nothing to do but wait.

  While he was waiting, he decided to give Gelato some of that companionship he'd been after earlier.

  “Gelato!” His loud whistle carried into the woods. “Here, boy.”

  *****

  Anna walked through the door to her apartment, feet throbbing, and threw herself onto the couch. It had been a long day. Dollar Tree, the discount store where she worked part-time, had had some kind of no tax sale and the lines had been crazy. You’d think it wouldn’t be a big deal. Everything in there was already a dollar or less, but the annual sale drew in all the crazies. She had been ringing customers up until the literal last minute.

  She kicked off her shoes and went to heat up some leftovers. She drained a glass of water while she waited for the microwave to beep, and then ate while standing. It was that kind of day. She felt like a zombie, and only a long bubble bath could bring her back to life, but she knew if she did that, she would go straight to bed when she got out. So she decided to do all her work before bath time.

  She pulled her laptop from her backpack, slow enough to feel all the muscles in her back. Her message icon jumped with excitement on the home screen.

  “New message from SB,” she said to herself before clicking the link.

  She pursued her lips at the abs in the picture before clicking to look at the profile of D. “What kind of username is D?”

  To be fair, her username was CameraChick. She had no room to judge. It was pretty straight forward, everything looked good and in order enough for her to read the message.

  D: Hi.

  It was short, sweet and to the point. She wasn’t sure what he wanted or who he was for that matter, but it wouldn’t hurt to say hi back.

  CameraChick: Hey yourself.

  He must have been invisible because she thought he was offline, yet his message came right back.

  D: I saw your profile, and I like. You free to chat?”

  She had no plans that couldn’t wait a bit.

  CameraChick: Sure. What exactly did you see that you like?

  D: Location. You’re close by.

  CameraChick: You’re in Canada?

  D: Yup. Which is why I want to know if you’re free this Saturday. Your profile appears to be exactly what I’m looking for. Can we meet to see if we’re a good match?

  She had no plans on Saturday. She rarely did, but he didn’t know that.

  CameraChick: I don’t know yet. Let me check and get back to you.

  It was only Wednesday. She had time to figure it out.

  D: Okay. Let me know. I’ll be waiting.

  Anna slid the computer from her lap and sent a quick text to Rachel.

  Anna: 911. Call me.

  She didn’t have to wait long. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Rach?”

  “Yeah, girlfriend. What’s the deal?”

  “Well…”

  Now that she was on the phone, she wasn’t sure what to say. Rachel seemed to know everything and Anna was tired of being the naïve friend.

  “Come on, Ann. Don’t get shy on me now. Talk to me. What’s up?”

  That was encouragement enough for her. “I got a dinner invite.”

  “From a PD?” P.D. meaning potential daddy. Rachel routinely abbreviated things. It made it easier to talk about being a sugar baby without eavesdroppers being judgey, or worse, trying to interfere.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Great. Tell me when and where. I’ll come by and do your hair and makeup for you since I know the extent of your beauty routine is running a brush through your hair and mascara.”

  “Well. We haven’t set a time or date or anything. I …” She didn’t want to admit it, but she had to. “I didn’t accept yet.”

  “What?”

  Anna held the phone away from her ear to protect herself from Rachel’s screech.

  “Why not? And Anna, you better have a good reason.”

  Anna sighed. Even though she meant well, sometimes Rachel spoke to her the way a mother spoke to her child.

  “I’m just not sure I’m ready.”

  “Oh. Really? And what’s holding you back? Your non-existent sex life or the bills piling up on your table?”

  To be fair, she had moved them from the table to a drawer in the kitchen.

  “No, it’s not that; it’s just... I’m not sure it’s right?”

  “Girl, are you really having moral second thoughts when you got bills to pay?”

  Anna laughed, because she knew that was a hindrance for some women. They felt being a sugar baby was morally wrong.

  “No. It’s not that.”

  “Then get to explaining, girl. I ain’t got all day.”

  “It’s Dom.”

  “And he is?” She could imagine Rachel’s perfect brow arched in question.

  “The guy I told you about the other day.”

  “Oh, the knight in shining armor you’re crushing on, but can’t seem to find his house again and forgot to at least get his number. That guy?”

  When you say it l
ike that, it sounds stupid.

  “Yes. Him,” she admitted.

  “Girl! You do not know him from Adam. You can’t be putting your life on hold for a man you don’t even know!”

  But she did know him. She knew him enough to know she wanted to get to know him better.

  “I mean, it’s more than that.”

  Rachel made it sound like she was pining over a man that didn’t exist, but he did. He did, and he was somewhere nearby, she just didn’t know where. What were the odds she’d run into him again?

  “Anna, listen to me,” Rachel said, interrupting her internal dialogue. “Your life cannot be put on hold for a man you do not know. You need to move on. If this man wants to be your daddy, for the right amount, let him. If you happen to meet your Dom sometime after that, cross that bridge when you get there, love. Don’t go burning bridges that aren’t even there.”

  She was right. Rachel could be loud, egotistical and overly sexual, but sometimes she was downright wise.

  “You’re right.”

  “I know,” she said, causing Anna to shake her head. “Now get off my line. Go get you a new daddy and call when the deed is done.”

  She hung up while Anna laughed, not waiting for her to say goodbye.

  Anna stared at her phone, then at her computer where the chat messenger was still open. It taunted her, and she decided Rachel was right. What did she have to lose?

  CameraChick: I’m free on Saturday.

  D: Great. I know the perfect place to go.

  He sent her an address, and they agreed to meet there at 7pm.

  It was official. She had her first date as a sugar baby coming up. What was she going to do?

  D: I made the reservation just in case you get there before me.

  CameraChick: What name is it under?

  D: Dom.

  She tapped her foot thinking through the butterflies in her stomach. What were the odds this Dom was him? She decided the odds were high enough that she had to go. Unwilling to miss out on the possibility, she typed back.

  CameraChick: See you there.

  Chapter 9

  Saturday night. Anna climbed out of her cab more nervous than a hooker in church. She’d been on dates before, but this was her first time meeting a man from the site. What exactly does one say to a prospective sugar daddy? She could hear Rachel in her head. You say hi. Duh.

  Together, they decided via SB messaging that they would meet at a small, high-end seafood restaurant. Why she insisted on being super early, she wasn’t sure. Maybe because just thinking about possibly being on a date made her knees weak and she didn’t want to risk tripping and falling on her face in front of him. So there she was, thirty minutes early. She stood in the parking lot, looking around in case he came early, too, and then decided from the catcalls that she was safer inside than waiting outside.

  “Do you have a reservation?”

  “There should be one under Dom.”

  The woman’s manicured finger skimmed down a list before she found the name and smiled up at her. “You’re early, I can seat you at the bar for now?”

  “Sure.”

  “Right this way, Miss.”

  She sat and fidgeted with her clutch until she decided to busy herself with her phone. The SB app came up, and she stared at his profile picture again. How would she know if it was him? He wasn’t likely to come to dinner with his shirt off. Or worse, what if he was a catfish? What if he was huge and hadn’t had those abs since college, but hoped she overlooked it because he was rich. Or even worse, what if he didn’t show?

  The waiter came by with a menu. “May I get you something to drink?”

  "Red wine, please, for now. Thank you,” she said, not bothering to look at the laminated pages.

  From her seat, she had a view of the entrance; only couples came and left. She fidgeted, adjusting the strap of her dress and mushing her pink lips. She knew that she looked great; she had checked five times before she left. She was showing just the right amount of skin, sexy, but not too sexy, which was hard to pull off. If this wasn’t her Dom, she didn’t want to seem too inviting. Even if this was her Dom, technically this was their first date, and she wanted to seem inviting, but not too inviting. But what were the chances she’d meet a very sexy man named Dom and a day later receive a message from a man named Dom, too. The chances that the two men were the same were good.

  She wore a black summer dress and her favorite Free People heels with a cute boho clutch she had found at a thrift store. Her hair was up in a messy bun, because Rachel insisted she had a beautiful neck and sun-kissed skin that she should show off whenever she could.

  With nothing left to do, she perused the bar menu. She decided she would be ordering the butter chicken and pilaf rice no matter what. Even though the place was known for its seafood, she wasn’t in the mood. She let herself soak in the ambient music for a few moments and wondered what the French words on the menu meant.

  Anna almost jumped from her seat when the daddy made his entrance.

  It was him, her Dom.

  He may have left Italy, but he still owned very nice clothing; he was no longer in his blue jeans, plaid shirt over his white T, and his Blundstone boots. Tonight it was a dress shirt, tight blue jeans, and his best Italian leather shoes. His confident stride brought a small breeze of his cologne to the table. He looked great, and he smelled like a million bucks. He was fucking hot. She looked down at the menu, feeling her cheeks heat and trying to hide her excitement. First, she was staring like an idiot who couldn’t speak, and now she was blushing like a schoolgirl.

  It was really him. She couldn’t believe it was him.

  “It’s you.”

  “Good evening, Anna. Funny meeting you here, no?”

  She giggled. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  The waiter appeared behind him. “I can seat you at your table now.”

  Wine in hand uncorked the bottle she poured a taste into their glasses.

  “I hope you don’t mind; I ordered some wine.”

  He turned the bottle to read it. “I don’t mind. Great choice.”

  “So,” she said, “I still can’t believe it’s you. I mean, the picture was just abs, I wasn’t sure who I was meeting.”

  “Well, rest assured, the picture is authentic. If you want, I can verify the picture was in no way photo shopped,” he said, moving to unbutton his shirt.

  “No!”

  He chuckled. “I am teasing.”

  She could feel her cheeks burning. He had appeared to be indifferent to undressing in a restaurant, and she was flustered.

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  “I thought it would be better as a surprise. Were you surprised?” He glanced up from the menu to see her eyes.

  “Very.”

  He licked his lips before speaking, and Anna struggled to move her gaze from his mouth back to his eyes. “Then it was worth not telling you.”

  “But how?”

  “I saw the site on your browsing history.”

  She blushed. Of course he had. “And you don’t care?”

  “About?”

  She leaned forward, whispering, “About me seeking arrangements?”

  Most men were put off. They thought it was high-class prostitution. He shrugged, sitting his menu down, sure of what he wanted. “Does it matter?”

  Of course it did. They were out tonight… on a date. At least she thought it was a date. If it wasn’t, she needed to know. Especially if he wasn’t considering her as a sugar baby. It was all too confusing.

  The waiter chose that time to appear and take their orders. He was very thorough, asking every possible question before leaving with his small notepad in tow. Dom complimented her as soon as he left.

  “I like your dress.”

  She blushed and thanked him. “Thank you.”

  She stared off to the side, too nervous to speak. What should she say? What did he think about her being on the site? Was he upset?
<
br />   “Anna.”

  His voice sent shivers down her spine and commanded her attention. “Yes?” She stared into his intense eyes.

  “There’s no place I’d rather be than here with you. If I had a problem, I wouldn’t be here. Okay?” He waited for her to nod before continuing. “Now, tell me about yourself. I want to get to know you. ”

  Anna felt the world melt away as she stared into Dom’s eyes. She didn't even notice the waiter coming or going. She almost forgot that they were here to eat, that was how strong their connection was. Her poor heart didn’t get a break; it raced throughout dinner and dessert, reminding her that it wasn’t a fluke. The first time they had met, there had been an attraction at first sight, and she was feeling the exact same way now. Yes, one could say they had met under precarious circumstances that would make this a bad idea, but she couldn’t see that. All she could think about was how he made her feel. Throughout dinner, he wanted to know everything about her. Where she worked, what she was studying in school, her favorite things, where she was from and about her family. No man had ever doted that much attention on her on a first date. Usually, they only wanted to talk about themselves.

  She felt bad and tried to steer the conversation his way, but his answers were always short.

  “You said you were from Italy; what part?” she asked.

  “A small fisherman’s market; you probably never heard of it. Tell me where you’re from.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I work in construction. What about you? Are you a professional photographer?”

  “How long have you had Gelato?”

  “Not long. Do you have any pets?”

  Each short answer always rounded back to her in a way that made her believe he was actually interested in her answers. How could she be suspicious of a man leaning in to hear every word she was saying?

  The meal was fabulous. She went through with her order, and Dom ordered a lobster soup. She imagined he would spill at least one drop on his black shirt, but no, he didn't. He ate like a gentleman until every drop was gone. The wine was a perfect accompaniment, and the waiter somehow understood they wanted to be left alone. Everything about dinner was perfect, and the company was even better. She didn’t want the night to end.