first night when he'd driven me home, all of the sudden he started frequenting Mangiare. Every Sunday without fail, he would enter the restaurant with those same three men, and always requested me to be their waitress. It became a thing of habit, and Wendy would just hand me the menus and told me to serve the hotties at table six. Mr. Giordano was perplexed by those repeated requests because my performance wasn’t getting better, and I didn’t learn how to relax in Alessandro Damiani's presence. Instead, I became more self-aware, more awkward, more ridiculous and painfully shy. But he kept leaving me those generous tips, and every time he left the restaurant, he'd smile from a distance. My conscience taunted me it was wrong to accept all that money from him, but the harsh everydayness of my life made morals come in second. I didn't give all the money to Trisha, but kept most of it for myself, knowing that May and I would need it someday.
And as time went by, I thought about Alessandro Damiani way more than I should have. I couldn't exactly pinpoint the moment it began, but the restless anticipation of the times he'd visit the restaurant became the only thing occupying my mind. If he'd skip a Sunday, I felt disappointed, torturing myself with the idea he might never come back.
I didn't understand it, but couldn't deny whenever he was near, I felt more drawn to him. As though I was put under some kind of spell. Did he play some kind of game with me, and followed a well thought-out agenda that I knew nothing about? Alessandro Damiani seemed the type of man who didn't do anything by chance. He was always self-assured and confident, emanating an air of absolute control, like he knew exactly what he wanted, as well as how he was going to get it. This mysterious energy I'd pick up on every time he'd stare in my direction made me only more perplexed, and it pulled me toward him even harder.
Something sizzled in the air every time he came around, and other people noticed it as well. One Sunday, when he entered the restaurant, and gazed at me from a distance, Wendy smirked and shot me a teasing look, shaking her head. “This guy has the hots for you, Liv. Just wait until you turn eighteen...I bet he'll want to give you more than just a tip.”
I reddened to the roots of my hair, and found it more difficult to calm down because he was watching me.
I had no idea what was happening. All I knew was that I wasn't indifferent, and it was getting worse because I started daydreaming about him. During many nights, when my parents screamed at each other and I held May in my arms, I fantasized Alessandro Damiani would drive by in his sports car and rescue us from this miserable life. It was just a silly dream that helped me cope with the difficulties I faced. Nothing would ever come out of it. Still, I kept replaying that first day when I met him, remembering his charming smile, and the sensations he stirred when he caressed my cheek. Sometimes, I imagined what it would feel like to be kissed by him. With time, I even envisioned how it would be if this experienced, beautiful man made love to me. Tortured by his everlasting image that wouldn't leave my mind, I'd write down all of my most hidden thoughts in my diary and kept drawing sketches of him. I told myself it was just for fun, but I knew that wasn't true. Somehow, I became completely infatuated with this mysterious man who kept demanding my service for reasons that were unfathomable to me.
Seeing Alessandro Damiani on a regular basis became a fact of life, and nothing of significance happened until the night he'd taken things a step further. It was Valentine's Day, and he was at the restaurant with his usual group. Remembering all those women I had seen him with on the Internet, I thought it strange he didn't have a date for the occasion, but shrugged it off. His love life was none of my business. The restaurant was packed with couples, and a young boy around my age wandered around the room, selling roses to the customers. I served the guests like every other night, and the boy smiled at me a few times, then gave me a rose. Blushing as