Staring into those eyes had an unusual hypnotizing effect, and I felt obliged to answer his question.
“Olivia,” I breathed, and his gaze froze on my lips. “Olivia Walters.”
He expelled a harsh breath like he was bothered by something, and then asked in a low voice, “How old are you, Olivia?”
“Seventeen,” I answered quietly.
His eyes roamed the length of my body, and widened as they sprang back to mine. “You don't look seventeen.”
He slowly released my elbow, and raised his eyebrows as though he expected me to offer an explanation I didn't have.
“But I am,” I said simply and wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I didn’t look like a drowned rat in that moment. His scrutinizing attention made me want to run and hide.
Suddenly, something in his dark eyes softened, and he smiled. His hand reached out to caress my cheek, and goosebumps erupted on my skin where he touched. I let out a soft gasp, searching for relief because I didn't understand what was happening to me. His eyes flashed with a flicker of lightning.
“You go to school.”
It was more of a statement than a question, but I answered it all the same. “Yes. It's my senior year,” I said, subconsciously wanting him to believe I wasn't as young and inexperienced as I looked.
He smiled like he could read my thoughts. “You're still a baby,” he murmured with a sense of fascination, and then his fingers gently brushed against my face yet again. “It was nice meeting you, Olivia. I think it's time for you to go home now.”
“Yes,” I somehow formed the word. “Thanks again.”
I was so mesmerized by this man I didn't realize he had failed to offer one single piece of information about himself. I stepped out of his car, and hurried toward the front door without looking back. I knew he still stared after me. I could feel his eyes boring into my back. I entered the house, only to be welcomed by those same sounds of fighting that emerged from the kitchen. The strange instinctive need to flee right back into the stillness of the stranger's car made me turn around. Through the narrow crack of the glass on the door, I saw him watching me from the distance. I thought he smiled at me before the car sped away into the darkness.
That night, May slept in my bed again, and I let her play with the music box while my thoughts kept wandering back to the beautiful stranger. Whenever I closed my eyes, the image of his captivating face was there, and I relived the sensation of his touch and the mesmerizing way in which he looked at me at the restaurant. I didn't think anything of it. I knew in all probability I would never see him again, but I wanted to preserve the memory of his face.
The next day, I drew a sketch of him, and wrote down the recollection of everything that happened in the journal I kept hidden under my mattress. Staring into his beautiful image in my drawing reminded me once again that he was a man and not a boy. To him, I was just a kid. He had said so himself. Even if that wasn't the case, I was way out of his league. Sophisticated men like him didn't date girls like me. The world just didn't work that way. I had been through enough to know that.
CHAPTER SIX
The Past (5 years prior)
Days went by in a dull routine and things returned to normal, even though at night, the memory of that mesmerizing, gorgeous man still preoccupied my mind. Nevertheless, I accepted I'd never see him again, and hoped the image of his face would eventually turn into a distant, blurred memory. That hope was crushed the following Sunday when he strolled into the restaurant, accompanied by the same group of suited up men. I stood next to the counter with Mr. Giordano and Wendy as the beautiful stranger and his entourage passed us by. Those dark night eyes cut me a knowing glance that made my knees go weak from one instant to the next. While I stood frozen in place, Mr. Giordano suddenly went haywire and mumbled a string of incomprehensive sentences in Italian.
“Are you okay, boss?” Wendy patted him on his back.
“Santa Maria. Do you have any idea who just walked in? Alessandro Damiani is in my restaurant?!” he exclaimed with a clear note of disbelief, and