Drawn by her voice, he returned to the kitchen and stood behind the island, his eyes riveted on Janet as she plated the food with the finesse of a Michelin-starred chef. He felt a sense of gratitude wash over him. Roberto had often treated him to delectable meals, but having a woman cook for him was a different experience altogether. It was a unique bond, a connection that transcended friendship, and Mario found himself relishing it.
Janet turned her head, catching his appreciative gaze. A smile tugged at her lips; it was becoming apparent the handsome Italian reciprocated her feelings. Setting the spoon down, she picked up the plates and turned to head to the dining room. “Dinner is served.”
Mario’s smile widened as he watched Janet, her pride in the meal she’d prepared evident. He collected the wine glasses and followed her into the dining room. Setting down the plates, she moved to a small curio in the corner to retrieve some candlesticks and a lighter. She placed the candles on the table and lit them; their flickering light cast an intimate glow over the room.
“Bella,” Mario praised, his eyes taking in the meticulously arranged dinner.
With a gentlemanly grace, he moved behind the woman and pulled out her chair. Janet was taken aback by his chivalry, a trait seemingly lost among American men. She cherished this old-fashioned attention from Mario, a refreshing change from what she usually encountered.
Her father, a man of an older generation, had taught her to value manners and respect. It seemed men her age had skipped learning these crucial lessons. Mario, however, appeared to understand the importance of treating women with respect.
“Thank you,” she murmured, settling into the chair he’d pulled out for her.
He took his own seat, lifting his wine glass in a toast towards Janet. “Bellissima.” Their glasses clinked together, and they each took a sip, officially commencing the meal. Janet’s smile widened, her heart fluttering at Mario’s Italian praise for her culinary efforts.
His first bite of the succulent snapper was met with a sigh of pleasure. “Delizioso,” he murmured, his eyes closing as he savored the exquisite flavors.
“Thank you.”
A silence fell over them as they relished the expertly prepared meal, each bite a testament to Janet’s culinary prowess. She began to feel a twinge of unease at the prolonged silence. She yearned to know more about this man, for him to fill the silence with his stories. Just as she was about to probe, Mario broke the silence.
“What do you do?” he asked, wine glass in hand, his curiosity piqued about his enchanting hostess.
“I’m an M.E.” Seeing Mario’s puzzled expression, she quickly clarified, “Medical examiner. I’m a medical examiner at the Naples Forensics Laboratory not too far from here.”
“You enjoy being medical examiner?”
“It’s been a lifelong fascination. I’ve always been drawn to biology and life sciences since I was a child. What about you?”
“I no like dead things,” Mario confessed, his mind drifting back to the grim dissections of frogs, worms, and crawdads in his Catholic middle school biology classes.
Janet’s laughter rang out, a delightful contrast to Mario’s grimace as he recounted his aversion to the subject that had ignited her passion. Their meal progressed, punctuated by the clink of cutlery and the hum of engaging conversation. Janet painted a vivid picture of her childhood in Palo Alto, California, and the warmth and affection she received from her adoptive German parents.
“You were adopted?”
“Yes. Why do you ask?”
“I was raised in orphanage,” Mario revealed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips upon discovering their shared experience, albeit different in detail. “But never adopted.”
“I’m sorry,” Janet whispered, her voice soft with empathy. She could barely stand imagining the absence of parental love he must have endured.
“Is okay,” Mario reassured her, his mind drifting back to the cherished memories he’d shared with Roberto at the orphanage. Adoption or no adoption, those times held a special place in his heart.
He was thoroughly enjoying the evening—the company of this enchanting woman made every moment memorable. As he drained his first glass of wine, he rose to fetch the wine bottle from the kitchen. Upon his return, he refilled both their glasses, depleting the bottle.
“This”—Mario gestured with his fork laden with snapper—”delizioso.”
Janet’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, Mario’s Italian accent adding an irresistible allure to his words. She sipped more wine and found her nerves were gradually melting away in the warmth of her dinner companion’s presence.
Noticing their glasses were nearly empty again, she retrieved a second bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from her wine fridge. Growing up in the Bay Area so close to wine country, she’d developed a fondness for Napa wines.
“Could you open this?” she asked, handing Mario the wine and corkscrew.
He obliged, uncorking the bottle and filling their glasses with the crisp white wine. As they finished their meal and progressed to their fourth glass of wine, a warm, relaxed atmosphere enveloped them. Mario collected the plates and carried them into the kitchen, his considerate gesture not going unnoticed by Janet.
“Would you like to move to the living room and continue our conversation?”
“Sì. I would like that,” Mario agreed, the alcohol loosening his inhibitions and fueling his desire to prolong this enchanting evening with Janet.
“What do you do for a living?” Janet asked, her gaze fixed on Mario as they settled onto the plush couch.
Mario hesitated, his mind racing. He couldn’t claim to be a priest anymore; that chapter of his life had ended. For the first time in years, he was adrift, unsure of his path.
“I’m between jobs,” he finally admitted.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” Janet quickly apologized, her eyes softening. “I’m just intrigued by you. You’re different from the men I’ve met here in Naples. You’re courteous, chivalrous . . .” She smiled, recalling his gentlemanly gestures. “And your accent is absolutely enchanting.”
“Grazie,” Mario responded, his heart pounding. He was navigating uncharted waters, and he wished he had Roberto’s wise counsel to guide him.
In a bold move, Janet leaned in to press her lips against his. Mario was taken aback, but the wine had worked its magic, and he found himself reciprocating the kiss.
Their lips danced together in a passionate ballet for a few intense minutes. Then Janet, emboldened by their shared passion, ventured, “Would you like to continue this in my room?”
“Sì,” Mario responded, his voice husky with desire. He was ready to surrender to the intoxicating allure of the moment.
With a coy smile, she took his hand, leading him down the dimly lit hallway towards her bedroom.
Chapter 90
