As he looked through his closet, he quickly vetoed the white Armani suit with any number of his pastel silk shirts. He also promptly considered and dismissed one of his personally favorite all-black ensembles.
They all literally screamed "too Los Angeles."
Sergio had decided that he shouldn't go for one of his more obvious or patented looks with tonight's appointment.
She's from New York, he thought, I'll go for the relaxed, art dealer-club owner look.
He smiled as he picked out buttery-soft black leather jeans and a deep blue silk shirt.
Yes, this should do the trick, he thought as he laughed softly at his own pun. Deep blue always contrasted nicely against his long raven locks and olive skin.
Draping the clothes across his bed, he began untying his gray silk kimono. Sergio thought that his asking Lena to pick him up at his place in her rental car would make her feel a bit more in control of the situation. Make her less skittish, since she had sounded mildly terrified over the phone the previous day.
She wasn't his typical client. She wasn't a Beverly Hills matron accustomed to being waited on hand and foot or whatever her choice of anatomy she was paying to have attention paid to. Nor was she a lusty, jet-setting supermodel in need of stud servicing who was simply too busy doing back-to-back photo shoots that she had to schedule her sex. From what her friend Abby had told Sergio, Magdalena was not someone who simply wanted a man who would tolerate her more demanding or less traditional sensual needs.
The client tonight was a librarian. She had been shrewdly investing her money for several years and having been on the right side of both the recent bullish and bearish markets had made her investment choices flourish handsomely. She had just quit her job in a big corporate law library to open up her own bed and breakfast on the East Coast and to finally enjoy some of her hard-earned money. She had decided to come to California for an extended vacation before she hit the ground full-speed running her new business. She was staying with some friends and when talk of her recent lack of male companionship came up, her best friend, Abby, insisted that she truly pamper herself with only the best.
Abby had warned Sergio that her friend had never been with a professional before and told him the thought seemed strangely titillating to Magdalena.
So, after much goading by her beloved best buddy, Lena had given in. After all, Abby had treated herself to an entire weekend with Sergio when she'd finally attained the impressive position of Dean of her university before the age of 40.
After slipping into the leather pants and on the verge of buttoning his shirt, Sergio's thoughts of which shoes to wear were interrupted by the sound of his door chimes. He eyed his watch.
It's early. Can't be her.
He called out from his bedroom, "Venti... it's open."
As the front door opened, he peeked his head out past the bedroom threshold and was presented with...
...not whom he had expected.
His mouth went a bit dry.
Dio mio! What a shame this isn't my date!
This
was certainly
no
librarian.
Dark brown hair with hints of red to it hung in long, layered waves past her shoulders, framing a face with strange but intriguing golden yet pale green eyes and the softest looking lips he thought he'd ever seen. And a body that would have driven Botticelli, Degas, and Rubens to obsessively paint her form. She looked like a real woman, not at all like so many of his plastic Barbie clients with newer and newer parts each time he met with them.
This was a woman like the women back in his hometown of Sorrento. Where women had big hips to have babies with and big breasts to feed babies and taunt men with. She had shapely legs that he could already imagine spreading wide to welcome him. Those small hands clutching at his shoulders. If he could have his wish... it would be those delicate ankles kept in those strappy sandals she was wearing and feeling them rest on the small of his back as he drove himself into her heated contours.
He felt his face flush a bit as he realized that he was fantasizing about making love to her. Dio mio, he thought, I haven't daydreamed about women since I was a teenager!
He slowly walked towards her in the foyer and swallowed hard, trying to moisten his throat enough to speak.
"Signorina, can I help you?" he asked politely, one dark eyebrow shooting up in sexy curiosity.
She stopped looking around the foyer, trying not to gawk openly at the various weapons along the walls. It was obvious they belonged to a serious collector - they were museum quality antiques, very old and very well-maintained.
This can't be the right place - this is a gigolo's pad?!
But once she heard that deeply accented voice and turned her eyes to gaze at its origin... once her attention landed on
him
, all she could manage for a moment was to simply stare with her mouth open.
Oh my god! He's so beautiful, he probably takes longer to get ready for a date than I do! This was such a bad bad BAD idea! I'm gonna kill Abby for talking me into this!
Mentally, she shook herself, forcing herself to speak.
"Uhm... hi there, are you Sergio?"
"Why, yes, yes I am. And you would be?"
