Ruthless Mafia 48

The little patio table on the balcony was set for a romantic dinner for two and stepping into the space she gasped at how
lovely the scene ahead of her was.
While she’d been in the shower, Icaro and whatever staff he’d pulled in, created a beautiful dining area for the two of
them. Red roses sat in a stunning centerpiece. Candles were lit in tiny little glass holders all over the balcony. The sun was
now nearly set, and the lights of the city and the glow of the candles created a serene landscape straight out of a movie.
A bucket of ice and a bottle of wine were nestled next to the little table.
The sounds and noises of the city caught her ear, walking to the edge of the balcony she leaned over to see if she could
see the nightlife. People milled around below, and Zorah got lost watching others in their every day lives. A woman
carrying what appeared to be groceries hurried down a sidewalk. A man and woman walking side by side pushing a baby
carriage were arguing and the man’s hands were flying everywhere, making Zorah wonder if he was accusing or
defending. From the way the woman shot him an annoyed glance, she decided she’d bet her last penny he was
defending himself. Another couple strolled hand in hand, the woman’s head resting on the man’s shoulder were in the
distance. A large group she guessed were friends out for a night on the town, though she questioned who would party
on a Sunday night.
The thought caused her smile to fall from her lips. This was the first Sunday she’d ever spent in her life where she hadn’t
gone to church. The notion caused an itch to run along her skin. Looking towards the sunset in the far distance told
herself it was okay. The scene ahead of her was as divine as any edifice. Who said prayers could only be whispered in a
church? Bowing her chin to her chest, she offered prayers of gratitude, peace and also one asking for guidance.
When she opened her eyes, she immediately noted Icaro leaning against the rail watching her intently. She’d been so lost
in the moment she’d not heard him step out.
“Hi,” he gave her a sweet smile.
“Hi.”
“You looked so peaceful, I didn’t dare disturb you, but I couldn’t look away either.”
She motioned to the view, “with this in front of me, I felt compelled to be thankful for the gift of being able to see such a
thing.”
His smile widened, “there is a little hill on our property back home and the sunrise from there is exquisite. The story goes
my father would often wake to find his new bride missing from their bed and would have to make the trek at the crack of
dawn to sit with her at the hilltop while she said her morning prayers with the sunrise. She often says God gave her the
best seat in the world when he rolled the ground up and gave her the little hilltop to sit on. All the world is a church,
Zorah, if you know what you’re looking for.”
She smiled and took the hand he extended, “it’s beautiful here. I was thinking this is the first Sunday in my life where I
didn’t attend mass.”
“Do you feel bereft or unsettled over it?”
“Not really. Oddly, being here, watching the sun disappear over the horizon felt more holy than the walls of the building
where my uncle presided.”
He held her chair out. “Walls built by man have nothing on the world built by God.” He dropped a kiss to the crown of
her head, “dinner should be here,” he chuckled when a knock on the outer doors of their suite interrupted him. “I stand
corrected. It is here. Stay here and I’ll bring it in.”
She wrinkled her nose as she realized he didn’t ask her what she was hungry for before he’d ordered. However, when he
pushed a small trolley onto the balcony, the aromas wafting from the various trays had her salivating.
“I wasn’t certain what you would like so I ordered a few things and thought we could share? You could try a little bit of
the local cuisine?”
“What did you order?”
“Spaghetti carbonara, Saltimbocca alla Romana, Carciofi and gnocchi.” He was lifting cloches off dishes as he named
each of the four plates.
“There is enough food there to feed a small army.”
“I promise you, I’m a starving man. I did not eat on the plane so I will eat my fill this evening.”
“I recognize the spaghetti dish and the one you called Carciofi is definitely artichoke, but I don’t know the other two
dishes.” She pointed to the meat dish, “salty what?”
“Saltimbocca,” he chuckled at her. “Your Italian is rusty.”
“We only spoke English at school and when it was only mom, me, and Father Giannone we spoke Italian but if the nuns were around, it was English all the time. What is this dish?”
“It is a veal wrapped in prosciutto with sage. What does the word mean?” he teased her.
“Jump in mouth. I thought I was mishearing you, but I wasn’t.”
“Nope. It is the Roman equivalent of ‘get in my belly’,” he laughed when she giggled. “It is one of my favorite dishes.
Seafood is my favorite food of course and growing up where we did, with my father running the docks, there was a fresh
abundance for many meals. However, this dish is delightful and I’m sure you’re going to love it.”
“And what is that?” she pointed to the little pillows of what appeared to be thick pastries.
“Gnocchi? You don’t know gnocchi?”
“I’ve never tried it. My mother was never much of a cook and the nuns were as bland as bland could be. What exactly is
in it? I can smell it from here and it’s making my mouth water.” She leaned closer to the dish.
“Dumplings is the best description, I suppose. This one, like the saltimbocca is alla Romana, which means it’s prepared
the way the locals would. It’s made with semolina.”
“It smells cheesy.”
“Parmesan,” he laughed at her words and then laughed again when her tummy growled. He took the seat opposite her
and smiled. “Which would you like to try first?”