Ricky stepped out of the elevator onto the third floor of Adrian's building with his talkative daughter Sarah trailing behind him.

"Daddy! And den he starded cwyin!" Sarah exclaimed as she filled her father in on the events at daycare.

"He started crying?" Ricky replied, sounding excited for his daughter's amusement.

Ricky took his set of keys out of his pocket and flipped through them looking for the right one. He stuck a silver jagged key inside the lock on apartment 312 and turned it, hearing a loud click. Opening the door, he allowed Sarah to enter first.

Adrian was in the kitchen drying some dishes left over from breakfast and shook her hands free of water before sailing into the front hall.

"There you guys are!" Adrian greeted, "I was beginning to wonder what was taking so long."

"Sorry. I wasn't sure what time you wanted her back because I usually don't take her Fridays."

"It's okay. As long as you guys had fun. Did you have fun pumpkin?" Adrian asked, leaning forwards and laying her hands on her knees.

"Yea! We wached a moovee!"

"What movie?"

"Just some G rated cartoon. Nothing special. Leftover popcorn is in here," Ricky said as he patted Sarah's backpack and placed it on the floor.

"Well, I was just about to start dinner. Do you want to stay?" Adrian invited, sounding nervous.

"Nah. Thanks. I got to run."

"Really what for?" She asked curiously.

"I got a date."

"Really? Hmm."

"Yeah, that's why I wanted her to spend time with me today because I need to work tomorrow to make up for missing tonight's shift. It's complicated but I do need to get going. Rain cheque?"

"Yeah," Adrian replied, forcing a smile.

"Thanks. And as for you!" Ricky laughed, lowering his voice and crouching down to his daughter's level, "I will see you later."

"Bye daddy!" Sarah smiled, hugging her father and pecking his cheek.

Ricky stood up and waved goodbye as he turned and walked out of the apartment. He had 35 minutes before it was time to pick up Amy.

Amy stood in the hallway of her small apartment, fluffing her hair in front of the hallway's mirror. She was wearing a tight black dress that cropped above her thighs and a silver necklace her mom had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Amy pursed her lips, making sure the amount of applied lipstick was to absolute perfection, as the intercom next to her door buzzed. Amy shimmied over to the door, going as fast as she could in her heels and anxiously pressed the button.

"Hello?" She yelled into the receiver, cursing the crappy quality speaker her landlord has stuck her with.

"Hey it's me," rattled a deep voice through the intercom, "open up."

"One sec!" Amy called back before pressing a button next to the one her thumb was resting on. She heard a slight buzz and waited nervously as her date flew up the flight of stairs that separated her and the landlord.

Amy jumped as an eager knock broke the silence of the room. She tussled her hair once more, grabbed her handbag and sexily opened the front door. With one hand on her hip and another on the door's handle, Amy nearly took Ricky's breath away. He stood there dumfounded, in the middle of the doorway now wishing he had at least bothered to tuck in his grey flannel.

Though Ricky thought even less of his outfit than he had before arriving, it had the opposite effect on Amy. She was salivating over how gorgeous Ricky looked. He was wearing dark stone wash jeans, a long grey flannel and a black blazer. In his left hand, he held twelve red roses and was staring at her so intensely, she was sure he could hear her heart beat.

"Uhhh," Ricky coughed, "you look… lovely."

"Thank you," Amy gleamed, swinging back into motion as she turned in a circle, flaunting her look, "as do you."

"These are for you," Ricky said, handing Amy the bouquet but still not daring to leave the security of the hallway.

"Wow! They are stunning," Amy replied, taking the flowers from her date. "I'll need a minute to find a vase."

"Sure. Take your time."

"You can come in if you'd like," Amy said as she disappeared into her apartment.

Ricky smiled, nodding his head nervously as he took one large step into the front hall.

"Don't we have a reservation? I'd hate to loose it while I look for some silly vase… though these really are beautiful," Amy called through the kitchen as she rummaged through some cupboard above the sink.

"No!" Ricky called back, "This place is special. You don't need… well.. I don't need a reservation."

"How come?" Amy asked tiredly, winded from the excursion with her cupboard as she walked back into the room holding a water jug, "This will have to do for now."

"It's lovely."

"Yea" Amy said, shifting the tips of the roses with her fingers, "it is."

"Shall we?" Ricky asked, approaching Amy as he lifted his right hand in the air.

"We shall," Amy formally replied as she was guided out of the building.

"Mr. Underwood!" A waiter from the front desk called over the Mozart symphony being played by piano in the background.

"Hello Antonio," Ricky greeted, pulling Amy to his side as he stood in front of the desk.

"How was the movie?"

"It was fine Antonio. Thank you. Sarah loved it."

"I told you she would. You should bring her in more often. I'm always telling you that one day, this place is going to be…"

"Uhh. That's enough Antonio. Just take us to my table okay?"

"Of course sir," Antonio said meekly, as he grabbed one menu and led the couple a ways through the restaurant before arriving at a private booth near a large glass window.

Ricky flew around Amy's side and pulled back a chair for her, offering her a seat. She graciously accepted it and sat down, taking the menu from their waiter.

"I'll be back shortly to take your order sir," Antonio informed before flying off back into the main dining room.

"That's strange. He only brought us one menu," Amy pondered out loud.

"Hmm?"

"Ricky… are you sure you can afford to eat here? This is Redentore! The richest restaurant in the entire state!"

"Yes I'm sure. See I kind of own this place.."

"You what?" Amy explained, choking on the lemon water she was sipping from a glass that had been placed at their table before their arrival.

"Allow me to explain," Ricky started, before being interrupted by Antonio who was now holding two plates of pasta.

"Excuse me sir, but the chef had two fresh plates ready of your usual order… I just assumed you wouldn't be trying anything different tonight. I hope you don't mind. I can bring it back…"

"No it's fine Antonio," Ricky reassured, placing his napkin on his lap before turning his attention towards Amy once again, "you are in for a real treat. This is the best dish on the menu."

"It looks delicious" Amy mumbled, wrapping her head around what she was seeing.

"That will be all Antonio. We are fine with the water for now."

"Of course sir," Antonio said, backing away slowly then turning around.

Ricky grabbed his fork and spoon and immediately started swirling his dinner into a tight ball around the spokes on his fork.

"You were explaining?" Amy asked, happy she had found her voice.

"Oh right!" Ricky jumped, as if he had forgotten. He grabbed his napkin and ran it over his face before continuing on with his story.

"I was abused as a child. Both my parents were drug addicts and were never, ever fit to take care of anyone; not even themselves. My father physically abused my mother to the point where it was just him and me most nights. It lasted about 3 years… before I finally told someone. I was put in foster care right after my ninth birthday. I spent about six months in a group home before they adopted me."

"They?"

"My parents. Mr. and Mrs. Leo and Sarah Underwood. They had been trying for about fifteen years to get pregnant and hadn't had any luck. At first, my stay with them was supposed to be temporary but we clicked so well together… that they went to court and got custody. Leo, my father, owned the richest sausage company in North America. He had this huge house, a driver, cooks and maids. It was… heaven. At least for a little while. Sarah found out she had an aggressive tumour and died three months later. I was ten, almost eleven. My dad was a wreck for years after. He sold the business and with the money he made, he bought all this," Ricky said, gesturing to their surroundings, "he gave the restaurant to me when my daughter was born. I got my GED and re named this place Redentore. It means saviour in Italian."

"So is that why you named Sarah? After your mom?"

Ricky nodded. "Adrian and I dated in grade nine but we never really serious about each other. She was jealous of the other girls I was seeing and decided to trap me by getting pregnant. I didn't speak to her for a good portion of the pregnancy, and when my dad convinced me to forgive what she had done, she wanted no part of me. I spent the rest of her pregnancy trying to have her let me be a part of the baby's life and we made up just a few weeks before she went into labour. She let me name the baby, and we moved in together for the first six weeks of Sarah's life, but we weren't happy. So we broke up, I paid for Adrian's place and started visiting my daughter on weekends."

"That's… intense…" Amy mumbled.

"Yeah but, despite it all, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world. I know I'm turning things around."

"And you love her?"

"Sarah? More than life itself."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Sorry all this had to happen the way it did."

"Don't be sorry for me. Be proud that I'm choosing to accept things the way they are… I sure am."

"It's incredible Ricky. It really is."

A loud vibration from Ricky's pocket interrupted the conversation. Ricky took out his phone and read the message, turning his expression towards Amy.

"Umm…we got to go."