SAFE (mxm)

Chapter 33. A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed (Ryo)

   (Present time)

   We finally disembark at the terminal. I immediately start striding determinedly, as fast as I can, to the nearby parking area. Luca is hurrying behind me, huffing and puffing dramatically.

   "Rallenta, ragazzo mio! (Slow down, my boy!) I am an old man. You don't want to see me having a stroke, do you? What got you today? You're usually so calm and agreeable after visiting that secret club of yours. So, they messed up this time, huh? Wasn't the sex good?"

   "Shut up and stop making a fool of yourself," I grumble. "You are younger than me and some work out won't harm you. I also told you a thousand times that no matter how much you try, you're not getting any details about my sex life."

   "Ahhh, è così? (Is that so?)" he giggles, unbothered by my stern tone. "This can only mean that the opposite is true. He was gorgeous. You are angry with me for making you leave early. He must have been world class. If this isn't an unexpected turn of events, I don't know what is. The bad boy tamed."

   "Conte De Angelis," I growl warningly, "stop the bullshit and don't make me disrespect your high social status by kicking your annoying, aristocratic ass."

   "Ma dai! Figuriamoci! (Seriously? No way!)"  My friend shouts for everyone around to hear and starts waving his arms in the air in his usual spectacular way. "So, I am absolutely right."

   The handsome count cannot go anywhere without instantly becoming the center of attention. He does not really need to raise hell to do that. His elegant, tailored, white, linen suit over an open collar, baby blue, expensive shirt and the perfectly shaped, short boxed beard are enough. I grin, despite my irritation. To say he is an impressive man is an understatement. A look is enough to make it clear that this is a member of the Italian nobility, the most colorful at that. 

   He goes on, raising his voice even more, "You're whipped. Maybe, also in the literal sense of the word. Hahaha! Scemo! (Dummy!) Why didn't you get two plane tickets and bring the boy here with you? You would've blown his mind. You know that Palazzo De Angelis is always at your disposal. King size bed, Sarzana's* masterpieces on the wall, sea view terrace and my humble persona at your service to provide you with the best tables in the most romantic restaurants. You can use my yacht to take him..."

   (*Domenico Fiasella (1589 - 1669) - famous Genoese, Baroque painter, known with the nick name Sarzana. His paintings reach the price of 140 000 USD at auction.)

   "I appreciate your enthusiasm," I somehow manage to interrupt him, "but this is impossible."

   "Of course, it is," Luka argues passionately. "If this is again because of your obsession with something that happened twenty years ago and someone who may never be found..."

   We finally reach the rented, red Alfa Romeo Giulia. I hold the driver's door open for him, "Get in the car and stop yelling. I am tired and hungry. We'll talk when I see some food in front of me and a glass of sparkling, ice cold Prosecco."

   "I hate driving rented cars," he grunts, gesturing to the uniform chauffeur who is waiting for him near a black Maserati Ghibli, to relieve him of his duties. "Why are you doing this to me?"

   I only roll my eyes and command, "Take us to Porto Antico, to that small restaurant with the fabulous sea food near the aquarium."

   "Andremo ancora all'acquario? (Are we going to the aquarium again?)" Luca whines and starts the car. "Honestly, you're like a child. This must be the hundredth time. What's so fascinating about fish?"

  "I love the penguins," I shrug my shoulders, "and the sharks. Watching the manatee calms me down too."

   "Mio ragazzo povero! (My poor boy!)" His misty grey eyes peek at my face, full of compassion, but I don't miss the smirk, curling up the corners of his mouth. "I have a brand new whip and a pair of handcuffs, if it's that bad. A friend in need is a friend indeed." 

   His rapturous laughter fills the cabin and I can't help but join him.

   "Conte De Angelis, signor Takayama, sono molto felice di rivederla nel nostro modesto ristorante (Count De Angelis, Mr. Takayama, I am very happy to see you again in our modest restaurant)," the owner smiles widely while we are settling at the small table, under the outdoor, white and green striped, sun shade.  

   We are facing The Neptune, a replica of a medieval Spanish galleon and a popular tourist attraction, docked at the the old port. The ship-like building of Acquario di Genova is next to it. The view is partially hidden behind the neat rows of tall palm trees, lined up along the seafront promenade and the concrete columns of the high ring road, surrounding the entire port. It is one of my most favorite places in the world. Nothing compares to this lively, packed with people and cars Italian treasure. Everything is familiar. I am like a duck to water here, never doubting what to do, how to feel. 

   I relax in my chair and close my eyes, just to realize that nothing is the same anymore. All I see in my mind are his soar lips, the golden sparkles in his hazel irises, his fear, slowly turning into unquenchable thirst, the passion. My angel is everywhere with me. It's like a fever. I've always been in a hurry to get back to my life after a night, arranged by the club before. Now, the two weeks I have to spend here seem like eternity. All I want is to run back to him. I groan and cover my face with a hand. What am I going to do? This makes it all so damn complicated.

   "Ryo," Luca pokes my shoulder, "your order."

   I open my eyes and meet both his and the trattoria owner curious gazes.

   "Ugh... I..." I glare at Luca who is sneering smugly. "Spaghetti allo scoglio et branzino con funghi, per favore. Oh, e una bottiglia di Prosecco. Grazie! (Spaghetti with seafood and sea bass with mushrooms, please. Oh, and a bottle of Prosecco. Thank you!)"

   "Calamari ai ferri (grilled squid)," my friend orders and sighs deeply, adding, "Berrò solo acqua frizzante. Mi chiedo perché sto pagando per un guidatore." (I'll drink only sparkling water. I wonder why I am paying to a driver.)"

   "Oh, please," I grin. "Stop complaining already. You're so spoiled. It will do you good to see how ordinary people live from time to time."

   Luca only waves away my remark and leans closer, putting a hand on my shoulder. "I am what I am. Not my fault. Let's focus on the important stuff now. Who is the mysterious Mr. Perfect and why was it impossible to take him to Italy with you? Don't even think about weaseling because you know I'll make you spill the beans, one way or another. The aquarium can be visited only at a pre-arranged time, or you'll have to queue in line for two hours at least. If you want a quick entrance, you better start talking."

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A/N

Hello everyone at the end of chapter 33.

Thank you for reading and supporting! ❤❤❤

What do you think about Ryo's friend and business partner? 😀

Do you think the impressive count will manage to put some sense in Ryo's head and persuade him to leave the past behind?

Share your thoughts, ask questions and criticize, if you feel like.

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Thank you!

Love: Anny