*Olivia*
After our rich, heavy meal, Salvatore walked me to the door of the restaurant like a proper gentleman. I’d been so nervous about tonight, but something about the faraway look he got in his eyes every time I mentioned Mom or one of my achievements put me at ease.
I knew that look. I used to have it in my eyes when I dreamed about who my father might be.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, how’d I do? Did I pass?”
I laughed. “I don’t know if this was a pass/fail dinner, but I’d say you passed.”
A wide, ebullient grin split his face, so clearly delighted that he actually averted his eyes as if embarrassed.
“I’ll save your number and everything,” I joked.
He peeked up at me, a strange gesture given how much taller he was. “Yeah? You wanna see me again?”
“Of course.” I grinned. “We’ll find a time to get together soon.”
He kicked at a rock. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to meet that Elio of yours. Never expected to get a grandson into the bargain.”