40 A DINNER DATE

Giovanni pulled up at the local restaurant Anna had arranged for them to meet for dinner. “Of all the places she could pick, she chose here,” he muttered as he scrutinized the restaurant which looked as though the slightest gush of wind would topple it. He dialled her number, leaning against his car while nodding and smiling at the ladies that passed him by, staring at him like he was a god from their fantasies — it was an occurrence he was now used to. “I just arrived at the deathtrap you call a restaurant,” he eyed the restaurant warily. If I'm going to die, it's not going to be beneath the debris of such a classless place. “You can either come in, keep complaining or just leave; the choice is yours,” He could almost hear her eye roll. “Or—” he crossed his arms across his slightly open chest, “—you could come to pick me up before these ladies whisk me away to have dinner in bed,” he told her, winking at another passing lady who immediately scurried off, her cheeks red.