5. Trey
5
TREY
The next morning, I woke up wondering if my evening with Walt had actually happened. I mean, it wasn’t exactly romantic in the traditional sense of the word, and yet, it sorta was. Watching a body burn with him beside me was like witnessing a private moment that very few people knew about.
For the first time in my life, I was privy to the inner circle.
When he dropped me off at the hotel, we sat in his car for several long minutes before either of us said a word. I could practically hear the electricity crackle before the air got too heavy and I had to say good night and go up to my room.
It took a while for me to fall asleep because I was yearning for Walt to the point of feeling sick to my stomach.
But in the morning, the bright Gilded Lake sunshine streamed in through my curtains, and I felt energized with hope and inspiration. I sat at my desk and opened my laptop, like I did every day. But this time, my fingers flew across the keyboard, and I busted out the first three chapters of my book without even stopping to self-edit.
I was back, baby.
When I finally hit a natural breaking point, I threw on my running gear and headed out for a run around the lake. My heart and lungs pounded in the clear mountain air as my legs carried me at a quick pace. For the next hour, I was in the zone, coated in sweat with my burning muscles. Before going back to my room, I stopped at the front desk for a cold bottle of water.
Jim smiled when he saw me. "How's the writing going, Mr. Barker?"
"It's actually really good. Took me a while to find my rhythm, but I think I’m there." I opened the water bottle as I turned right into Walt. Of course. Before I could catch it, the bottle tumbled from my hand and sprayed across his black suit. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry." On instinct, I started brushing off the drops from the front of his jacket.
He gently grasped my wrist and held it away from his body. "It's okay, Trey." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the water, which did absolutely nothing to dry him. “It’s fine.”
Mortified, I looked down and tried to shrink into the floor.
Apparently, Walt looked down, too. "Nice shorts, by the way."
My shorts were definitely short but probably a little too short to be around someone I was so attracted to. Self-consciously, I pulled on them as I started to walk away. “Um, thanks.”
Walt had a playful smile on his lips. “No, thank you.”
"I, uh, should go shower." I didn't want to leave him, but I was consumed by embarrassment and lust in equal amounts. Walt's hand was still holding onto my wrist when he gently tugged me back to him.
"Trey…"
I took a stuttering breath. "Yes?"
"I'm gonna take you to dinner tonight. We should talk about what happened. Get clear on our…arrangement." His face and eyes were serious, but all I could focus on was how good he smelled.
"Okay." I didn't know whether to feel excited or scared. Or both.
"I'll meet you in the lobby at seven." He released my wrist, but I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my short shorts as I walked away.
The evening couldn't come fast enough.
By six forty-five, I was in the lobby. I didn't know where we were going, so I dressed up, but not too much. Seven o'clock came and went, then seven fifteen. I began to pace, glancing at my phone every few minutes. Had he forgotten? Or maybe he was back at the crematorium? Not to mention that he probably had a long list of more interesting people to spend time with than me.
At seven thirty, I turned to go back to my room, feeling foolish for waiting so long only to be stood up, then I heard footsteps running across the lobby.
“Trey, wait up.” It was Walt. "I'm so sorry. I got held up and couldn’t call." He held out his hand for me, and I took it without hesitation. “Thank you.” He tucked my arm into his and walked me to a waiting car out front.
We both climbed into the back seat, and then Walt tapped on his window for the driver to go.
“No problem. I know you’re busy.” This felt more like a date than a business discussion and that made me smile.
Walt looked at me with a serious expression, then his eyes traveled down the length of my body and back to my face. “You look great.”
My ears burned from the compliment. “Thanks. You too.”
He cocked his head and leaned back in the seat. "Do you like Italian food?"
"Of course. Who doesn't like Italian food?"
He shrugged and then gazed out the window, his fingers tapping on his knee. Okay, maybe this wasn't a date. Maybe he was still thinking I was a fed and this was some kind of intimidation tactic.
With a sigh, I stared out my own window, watching the landscape roll by to distract myself from the disappointment building in my chest.
The driver let us out in front of a nondescript building, and Walt led me inside an unmarked door.
My heart began to beat faster because I feared he had changed his mind about me and wanted to get rid of me. Maybe he talked to Luca and they'd decided I was a risk not worth taking. My knees felt like they might buckle at any moment as I followed Walt through the next door.
As soon as he opened it, the most delicious aromas overwhelmed me. We were suddenly inside some kind of secret restaurant. There were only six tables in the space and each one was full.
An older woman came up to Walt and kissed both his cheeks, then gestured for him to sit at the open table. “It’s been too long, mio caro .”
“I’m sorry, Zietta.” Walt turned and pointed at me. "This is my friend, Trey."
“Oh, such a handsome young man.” The woman grabbed my face and kissed each of my cheeks. “You are welcome here anytime. With or without your ‘friend.’ ”
“Um, thank you.” I grinned as waves of relief washed over me. Maybe he wasn't gonna kill me after all. And if he did, at least I’d probably die with a full stomach. “It’s nice to meet you.”
At our table, Walt pulled my chair out for me, and I sat down. A waiter brought us two glasses of water then poured wine into our glasses while we looked at our menus.
Walt tapped the top of his menu as if he could sense my nerves. "Just relax, Trey. You'll like this place. You just have to go with it." Then he raised his glass of wine. "To new friends."
I clinked my glass to his and nodded. "To new friends."
The wine was smooth and rich and made me think of Sardinia. I’d only had a few sips before the waiter placed an antipasto plate on the table between us.
Walt slid off his jacket and unbuttoned the top of his shirt as if he needed to get comfortable before digging in. “I have a technique.” Then he expertly assembled a cracker with cheese, prosciutto, and an olive. "Open up."
In slow motion, my jaw loosened, and he slid the appetizer into my mouth. My lips closed, but he held his fingers on my lips. Our eyes were locked as I let my tongue lightly graze the tip of his finger before I pulled back and smiled.
“Good?”
With my gaze still on him, I chewed his offering and nodded.
This thing between us was for sure not in my head.
For the first time since I saw Walt eight months ago, my body relaxed. I hadn't realized just how much tension I'd been holding, waiting to see if he might feel an inkling of what I felt for him. I took a slow sip of wine and smirked. "You're hard to read, Walter Francesco."
"I know.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully. “That's intentional.”
I picked up an olive and sucked on it as Walt watched my every move. "So what is this? A date?"
Walt looked down at his lap and smoothed his napkin. "I don't really date."
"Oh." Of course. I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice as I nodded. “Yeah, me neither.”
"I just mean…it doesn't really make sense in my line of work."
Well, if he was always thirty minutes late, I could understand why that was true. "I see. So, why did you bring me here tonight?" I wasn’t a heavy drinker, so even half a glass of wine was making me feel emboldened. I took another sip and then the waiter came over and topped us off.
Walt sat up straighter, as if he suddenly remembered we weren't on a date after all. "I, um, well, I wanted to talk to you about last night. Want to make sure we’re clear here."
He was definitely blushing as he looked down and arranged meats and cheese on his plate. Maybe Walt didn't go on many dates, but that didn't mean this wasn't one.
I thought about what Romero would say in one of my books and tried to channel some of that courage. "Okay, then let's get clear. I already know all about your family. I know what the Francescos are capable of. I'm not stupid."
"Yeah, see, that doesn't make me feel better.” He shook his head with a dry chuckle, like he was physically pained. “Because having someone out in the world know so much about us isn’t safe for my family."
"I understand that. Believe me, I do." I glanced around the restaurant and realized everyone in here was either part of the Francesco family or a very, very good friend of theirs. I caught the eye of the woman who had greeted us when we walked in, and I motioned for her to come over.
Once she reached the table, I stood up. " Signora, questo vino è eccellente ."
Her face lit up as I told her, in Italian, that the wine was excellent.
Walt's surprised expression made me light up too. " L'uva è Cannonau di Sardegna? "
She grinned and nodded at my correct identification of the rare Sardinian grape.
Walt shook his head and laughed. "What the hell is happening right now?"
The woman and I continued our conversation in Italian, and I told her about my time in Sardinia, the village the Francesco family came from.
Tears sprang into her eyes as I described the beaches and the restaurants. She said she hadn't been back since she was a little girl, and I urged her to go. I told her I would take her sometime, and she laughed.
Other people in the restaurant began to tune in to our conversation, and they also urged her to go to Sardinia.
" Allegra, vai in Italia! " Strangers came over to toast us, and Walt had no choice but to stand and toast as well.
I stepped closer to Walt while the guests were all chatting and clinked my glass to his. "I'm not a threat, Walt. I promise."
We let Allegra get back to work after she made me promise to have coffee with her the next day. More courses arrived, and we ate one amazing dish after another.
Walt was surprised by my knowledge of Sardinian food. He eyed me suspiciously as I dug roe out of a sea urchin. "It's really, really suspicious that you know so much about my family and our culture."
"You were raised to be suspicious." I fed him a bite of the orange roe. "Maybe I just love…your culture. Maybe I even love your family."
His brows furrowed, and I worried I’d gone too far. "Why would you care about my family? What about your own family?"
“Never mind.” I shook my head and tried to backpedal. "I’m not a stalker or anything. I’m just…curious. It’s the writer in me. I come from a very different kind of family, so yours just…fascinates me."
His concerned demeanor dropped and turned to one of pity. "I'm sorry if things were rough for you."
"It's okay, really.” I shrugged and twirled the stem of my glass between my fingers to avoid eye contact with the man that seemed to stare right through me. “I’m over it. But when I’m around big, loving families, it just makes me so happy."
We were quiet for a bit and then lightened the topics of conversation as we finished several glasses of wine. And that was before the waiter brought over some limoncello. Somebody turned up the music, and before I knew it, Allegra and I were dancing.
Tables were pushed to the sides of the room as we stomped and twirled as other people joined in. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun.
Before the song was over, another man cut in and took Allegra from me.
I turned away from them, laughing in joy as I stumbled into Walt. He slid one arm around my waist and took my other hand in his. Another button on his shirt was undone, and he'd rolled his sleeves to his elbows as he grinned. "Let's dance."