Chapter Six
Molly
At work the next day, I challenge myself to go as long as possible without thinking about Salvatore. As a result, I end up thinking about him more. When Greg asks why I’m so distracted, I give him the lame excuse that I’m tired. He suggests I drink more coffee, then goes back to his work. I consider telling him about Salvatore, and everything that happened yesterday. But I know what Greg would say. He’d get all excited, tell me to hop in bed with my landlord, then start planning our wedding. My fear though, is that he’d make me admit that I have a crush on Salvatore.
There, I admit it. It’s a tiny crush, a fledgling crush. I’ve had them before, though not since college. I know that if I don’t nurture it, it will go away. Salvatore is handsome, successful, and, yes, sexy in a dark and mysterious way. I can’t blame myself for finding him attractive. But I can’t expect him to feel the same way about me. And I’d be afraid if he did.
Later that morning, I have another session with Mike. We’re making such good progress, that I’m finally able to focus on something other than you know who. At the end of our appointment, Mike tells me that he’s ready to check himself into a rehabilitation program. I happily escort him to our information desk, where I start to gather glossy brochures for affordable programs in the area. While I’m focused on this, a startling chill runs up my spine. I don’t even have to turn around to know he’s here.
“Good morning, Molly.”
The low tenor of his voice reverberates in my core. My toes and fingertips tingle. I turn around slowly. There he is, that dark apparition, wearing a suit the color of a black hole.
“Everything cool, Ms. Wright?” Mike asks, glancing from me to the demon who haunts me. I almost want to ask Mike if he sees Salvatore too.
With a sigh, I force myself to smile. “Yes, Mike, thank you. Cora can help you find the right program.”
I call over Cora, a spunky recent college grad with purple frosted hair. She gladly sets about helping Mike.
“Hello, Salvatore,” I say, cheerfully. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
Salvatore surveys the space with his dark eyes. I can feel Greg staring at me. God only knows what he’s thinking, but I’m sure I’ll find out after Salvatore leaves.
“Is there anywhere we can chat?” Salvatore asks. His mouth twists into a smile. “Privately.”
I fight to keep my knees from buckling beneath me. “Sure. My office is right this way.”
Salvatore follows me down the hallway. I can hear his every step, thudding in time with the beating of my heart.
“Have a seat,” I offer, when we walk inside.
“Thank you,” he says, though he doesn’t sit down. I decide to stay standing too. Salvatore levels his eyes at me. I feel like an animal caught in his snare. “About your rent,” he begins. “I think I’ve figured something out. Though, I have to warn you, it’s an unconventional proposition.”
My mind sets off, spinning a thousand wild scenarios all at once. “Oh?” I say.
Salvatore shoves his hands in his pockets, making him appear more vulnerable. “My Uncle Franco, whom I’m very close to, is old and not well. I’m afraid he doesn’t have much longer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, though I’m dying to ask what the hell this has to do with me.
“You see, Uncle Franco is an old-fashioned guy. I’m his favorite nephew, and he’s been dying to see me married and settled down.”
“Okay,” I say, cautiously.
Salvatore strokes back his hair, hanging his head down and softening his eyes. “What I’m asking is, for you to come dinner with us, just one night, and pretend to be my girlfriend.”
I blink, looking down at the floor. After what I was expecting, I’m a bit relieved that that’s all he’s asking.
“I told you it was unconventional,” Salvatore says when I hesitate to answer. “I know it’s strange, but you’d be doing me a huge personal favor. And I’ll discount your rent for one month.”
One night. One month. That will give me time to figure something else out. It doesn’t sound so bad. And what other choice do I have? Salvatore takes a step towards me, sending my body temperature plummeting. I can smell his clean scent from here, and see the dark stubble peeking out on his chin.
I nod my agreement, unable to speak. He takes my hand.
“Thank you, Molly,” Salvatore says. “I won’t forget this.”
He walks towards the door. I struggle to find my voice.
“Mr. Mariano,” I call.
He turns around. “Call me, Sal.”
“Sal,” I say, straightening my back. “The wifi in my apartment is down.”
I study his smile, trying to see if there’s something there. But like everything else about him, it’s opaque.
“I’ll get right on that,” he says, then disappears into the hallway.
Closing the office door behind him, I take a few moments to collect myself. Meeting his uncle, pretending to be his girlfriend, going on a date, but not really? My thoughts take the form of a funnel cloud, swirling violently, and reeking havoc on my mind. I can barely process what I’ve just agreed to. It’s surreal. Everything with Sal is.
“Sal,” I whisper to myself. I like the way the shortened version of his name feels on my tongue. It’s familiar. Intimate.
I shake my head forcefully. I can’t indulge this crush. We aren’t going on a date. He’d said it himself, this is pretend. I remember all too well my high school and college heartbreaks, the heavy pain that can take months to subside. I don’t want to go through that again. Pretend. Fake, I remind myself. If I want to protect my feelings, I can’t forget the nature of this arrangement. It’s purely business.
But that makes me feel like a prostitute.
I picture Greg, watching the hallway from his desk, ready to barrage me with questions about my strange visitor. I can’t face that, not now. But if I stay hiding in my office, he’ll come and find me. I slip out of the door, and walk with my head down towards the restroom. I swing open the door, and step onto the tiled floor, when I sense someone else behind me. For a hopeful moment, I think it’s one of my female co-workers. Then, I hear Greg’s voice.
“Not so fast.”
I turn to him, feigning innocence. “Hey, Greg.”
He squints suspiciously. “Don’t ‘Hey Greg’ me.” His eyes dart down the hallway, where the remnants of Sal’s presence still linger. “Who. Was. That?” he asks, enunciating every word.
I turn my face to the side, trying to hide that fact that I’m blushing. “That? Oh, just my landlord.”
Greg, of course, is not satisfied with this answer. He leans against the doorway, blocking my exit. “Okay. And what was your landlord doing here?”
I shrug. “Just… talking about rent. And… there’s a problem with my wifi.”
“Molly,” Greg says, looking up with frustration. “Don’t be so boring.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“He’s very handsome.”
“You think so?”
Greg scoffs. “I have eyes. And so does your landlord. For you.”
Hope blossoms in my chest, and it feels too good to shut down. Greg’s expression brightens, and I realize I’m smiling. I quickly wipe it from my face.
“You’re being ridiculous,” I say.
“No, I’m not. I don’t think that man looked at anyone else in the building. His eyes were glued to you.” Greg pulls his head back, pretending to ogle me. “All of you.”
“Just stop.” I shoulder my way past him and out of the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” Greg calls behind me. “Didn’t you have to pee?”
*
Salvatore
I walk down the block away from the center, my blood rushing to the most pleasurable of places. My pretty little Molly is like a delicate, quivering flower, and she didn’t disappoint today. She tries to act like I don’t affect her, but she’s not fooling me. She has too many tells, like how her shoulders scrunch up, or her face is either pale or bright red when I’m around her. I look forward to the day when when I can spread her sweet petals and corrupt her from the inside out.
I dial Anthony’s number and press the phone against my ear.
“What do you want?” he asks as soon as he answers. “I’m not giving you anything else.”
“Calm down, I’m not calling for a favor. I actually have good news. I’m ready to talk to Franco.”
Anthony is silent for a few moments. “About what?”
“I want to move forward, put the past behind us. I need you to put a bug in his ear. Tell him I’m not angry anymore. I’m a changed man.”
“You really think he’ll believe that? What’s brought on this change?”
I lean against a building, casting a glance down the street to the center. “Tell him I’ve been cleansed by the love of a good woman.”