ONE TO WATCH

CHARLIE: A NON DATE

As twilight gave way to darkness, Charlie began to wonder if her conversation with Delyan that morning had meant anything at all. Would he turn up this evening?

She'd been standing like a mannequin on the fourth step of the grand marble staircase, draped in couture, for what seemed like hours. Clients flitted between pieces of polished 17th-century furniture, pausing with anticipation to inspect the displayed collection of handbags and jewelry. Models, like props in the same play, were dotted around the villa's interior. Charlie glanced surreptitiously at her watch, mindful not to detract from the overall impression. Thank goodness; they were nearly done.

Though grateful Delyan hadn't appeared while she was working, Charlie had spent the entire hour searching for his chiseled face among the onlookers and was starting to worry he wasn't coming. It had been a while since she'd felt so unsure of herself. Objectively, it wasn't surprising she was nervous—she'd just moved into a house with this man! Surely, going on a date with him—even if he had called it a 'non-date'—was unwise?

When at last the event wrapped for the evening and Charlie was able to break pose, a handful of vendors hung back. They politely admired the iconic collection of artworks that adorned the walls, keen to disguise their eagerness to discuss business with the designer.

The presentation had been a success. Strong sales were sure to follow, and Charlie felt positive about that. Though the models weren't paid on commission, it was good press to be part of a successful launch.

When she got back to the changing rooms, Charlie tapped the screen on her phone, only to feel a flush of disappointment. No calls. No messages. She changed into the navy linen mini dress she'd arrived in, and then, because she was starving, made her way to the cafeteria for a salmon focaccia. Enticed by a glimpse of mauve hydrangeas, she moved into the garden, seating herself at a tiny mosaic bistro set. Gazing into the blue waters of the swimming pool, her thoughts unsurprisingly returned to Delyan.

Why would he hint that he'd be there and then just not turn up?

After finishing dinner, she thanked the event organizers, wrapped her coat around herself, and stepped outside. City lights illuminated the night sky, and as she moved toward the street front, there he was, leaning casually against a deep purple Lamborghini in the parking lot.

She smiled and tilted her head at the car. "This better not be yours."

He grinned back at her in the most disarming way. "Not yet, but soon," he replied.

Stepping forward, Delyan greeted her with cheek kisses. The crisp air around him carried the softest trace of a woody perfume.

"You're late," she said. "I already ate."

His eyes glistened. "Didn't want to disturb... shall we walk?"

She nodded. A nearly full moon shone like a silvery ball through wisps of clouds. He took her backpack from her and held out a hand. Clasping his palm, she leaned into him, feeling relieved he'd come. They strolled down a dimly lit walkway through a park and out into a laneway, not saying much.

"If you're tired, I'll take you home," he said. "Otherwise, I'd like to take you somewhere. I think you might like it?"

She glanced sideways at him, intrigued. "I'm not tired."

They kept walking. He seemed to know his way through the maze of streets that spiraled around the city center, though Charlie couldn't tell quite how. She was always at a loss in a new city without Google Maps. When she couldn't hold the silence any longer, she said, "So, tell me about yourself. What brings you to Milan?"

He hesitated. "I'm...here to work."

"Yes, but what's your story?"

Delyan's eyes met hers. "I'm not big on talking about myself..."