Wow! Thanks for the positive response to chapter 1. Since you obviously want me to continue, here's chapter 2…
Chapter 2: Tony
"Seven is fine. I'll see you then." I hung up the phone and looked at it like I'd never seen a phone before.
"What did I just do?" I asked the empty apartment. "What the fuck did I just do?" This time I shouted. "Jesus Christ! What was I thinking?" Again I was talking to no one.
It was beginning to sink in that I had just asked Michelle Dessler to my apartment for dinner. I must be out of my mind. I was crazy about Michelle, I couldn't deny it and I had wanted to ask her out for months but tonight was not the night and inviting her to my apartment was not smart. We had both been through way too much in the last day; there were too many raw emotions for either of us to think straight right now.
I decided to concentrate on dinner. I had no idea what I was going to make. I had nothing worth eating in my apartment. I grabbed a jacket and keys and ran out to do some grocery shopping.
I live in a great neighborhood. Actually, it's the neighborhood that I lived in when my parents bought their first restaurant and moved to LA from Chicago. It's an ethnic neighborhood with all kinds of family businesses. I live above a book store and just down the street is the butcher shop and the produce market and just about anything else you could need.
I decided to stop at D'Amico's butcher shop for some good steaks. Mr. D'Amico was behind the counter in his blood stained apron.
"Hey, Tony," he said in his booming voice. He had a thick Italian accent. Usually when we spoke, I spoke in Spanish and he spoke in Italian. It was easier to figure out than when he tried to speak English. "What can I get for you today?"
"I'm not sure. Do you have any nice fillets?"
"Fillet mignon? Who's the lucky girl, Tony?" the butcher asked as he moved along the meat case.
"How do you know it's a girl?"
"Because if the guys are coming over to watch the game, you grill t-bones or New York strip steaks. You cook fillets for a woman."
I smiled. Mr. D'Amico had it all figured out.
"How about this, Tony?" he asked pulling out a piece of red meat. "How thick do you want me to cut them?"
I held my thumb and forefinger about an inch and a half apart. "About like this," I told him.
"What are you having for an appetizer? I have some nice oysters on the half shell. You know oysters are very romantic."
"I've heard that," I said trying not to encourage him. "Do you have any shrimp?"
Mr. D'Amico indicated the case across the store. "Jumbo ones. They're very tender."
"Okay, I'll take two fillet mignon and a dozen steamed jumbo shrimp. I'm going to run down to the produce market. I'll pick them up on my way back."
The produce market was two blocks away. While I walked I took out my cell phone and called my sister Vanessa. Vanessa was a pastry chef. She and a friend started a business baking for local restaurants and caterers.
"Vanessa," I said as she answered the phone. "Got any extras today?"
"Why? Do you suddenly have a sweet tooth?"
"No, I'm cooking dinner for a friend and I wanted some dessert. You make the best dessert around, so I thought I'd check and see if you had anything extra that was just going to go to waste."
"So who's the girl?" Vanessa asked.
"Who says it's a girl," I asked starting to get a little exasperated. Everyone seemed concerned with my love life and I knew why. I hadn't dated anyone since Nina made a fool of me. Everyone knew about my relationship with Nina. When she was revealed as a double agent, the story made page one of every newspaper in the country. I was identified as being 'intimately involved' with her.
"If you had male friends coming over, your idea of dessert would be ice cream and beer."
"Alright, she's a girl from work."
"Is she Latino?"
"No," I answered succinctly.
"Then I won't tell Mama and Pop."
"Thank you, I appreciate that." Our parents weren't prejudiced; they had plenty of friends that weren't Latino. They just didn't expect any of their eight children to date or, God forbid, marry someone that wasn't Latino. So far they hadn't been disappointed. Vanessa's husband Carlos and Ricardo's wife Rosa were both Latino. Our sister Angelina was engaged to a Latino and the girl Marco had dated all though college was also Latino. None of our three youngest brothers had dated seriously yet so the jury was still out on them. I was the oldest of the eight and the thought that I might marry an Anglo was just about killing my mother, especially after what happened with Nina. I tried to point out to her that Jamey was as much of a traitor as Nina and Jamey was Latino. Mama quickly noted that Jamey had been married to an Anglo.
"Okay, Tony," Vanessa said. "We did an Italian wedding today and I've got some stuff left. I'll put together a plate with Italian Brandy Cream Cake slices and some cannoli and Italian wedding cookies. How does that sound?"
"Like you're trying to marry me off, but I'll take it anyway. Thanks. Is there any way you can drop it off on your way home. I'm kind of rushed for time here. I need it before seven."
"Geez, Tony! First you want me to provide dessert and now you want a delivery service. You are going to owe me big time, Buddy! Carlos and I want to go to that new Eurasian restaurant that opened downtown next weekend. So cancel your plans next Saturday because you're babysitting."
"Deal," I told her and we hung up. I knew Vanessa was not as upset as she sounded. We were only 18 months apart in age and had grown up thick as thieves. Since we were the oldest of the brood and our parents worked an ungodly number of hours in the restaurant, we looked after our younger siblings much of the time.
I went into the produce market and picked up baby greens, pears and walnuts for a salad. Then I found nice zucchini and some yellow squash and a couple of firm, ripe tomatoes. I would cut them all up with a little onion, season with basil and sauté them in a little olive oil. While I was there, I picked up two nice potatoes and some strawberries and blueberries. That would do nicely. I paid for my purchases and started back toward the butcher shop.
On the way back, I made one more stop at the small grocery store. I picked up some gorgonzola cheese and a pint of whipping cream. I was already loaded down when I got back to Mr. D'Amico's butcher shop.
"Here you go, Tony," he said handing me the meat and shrimp wrapped up in white, butcher paper. "I wrapped those fillets with a strip of bacon. I thought the lady might like that."
I thanked him and made my way back to my apartment to get dinner started. It was almost 6:15. This was going to be tight but I should be able to have the salad and the shrimp cocktail ready by seven. I threw the potatoes on the grill to start baking and quickly chopped the vegetables. I wouldn't cook them until I started grilling the steaks. Finally I sliced the strawberries into two small bowls and sprinkled a handful of blueberries on top. I pulled out a mixer and whipped the cream. The berries and whipped cream would be dessert along with the sweets that Vanessa brought over.
I kept watching the clock as I cooked and set the table. I live in a loft apartment and I have a great rooftop balcony. The evening was going to be pleasant so I decided to set the table on the balcony. It took me a few minutes, but I actually found two matching plates and place settings of silverware. I also found a pair of candle holders and candles for the center of the table.
Should I use candles? Maybe that was too romantic. I didn't want this to become too romantic. I had screwed up relationships before by introducing sex too early, like on the first date, and I wasn't going to mess this one up. We definitely needed to get to know each other better before we took that next step. Not that I was adverse to finding myself naked and in bed with such a beautiful creature, but Michelle was different. She was special. I wanted everything to be perfect for her. I wanted to know that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I couldn't help but remember the kiss we shared last night in the hallway at CTU. Wow! What a kiss! If we did that again, all bets were off. I would just have to make sure that we avoided any passionate kisses. I would kiss her on her cheek when she arrived and, depending on how the night went, I would kiss her lightly on the mouth when she left. That would be a good way to start. If we went out again, I would let it get a little more intense.
The knock at the door startled me back to reality. I knew Vanessa's knock. We exchanged pleasantries when I opened the door.
"How's this?" she asked as she handed me a plate loaded with dessert.
"Fantastic, Vanessa. I knew you wouldn't let me down." Without exactly pushing her out the door, I made it clear that I needed to finish getting ready. Vanessa took the hint and left.
It was just a minute after seven when I heard another knock. This one was more tentative than Vanessa's knock had been. I took a deep breath and went to the door.