Blossom in Winter (Blossom in Winter #1)(45)

“We don’t usually have strawberry milkshakes,” replies the beautiful Italian waitress.

“I used to come here with my goddaughter ten years ago, and since she couldn’t drink alcohol, they would prepare it.”

“Oh, she’s your goddaughter?”

I nod, putting on my most childlike face.

“Correct,” Alex replies with a charming smile.

“I’m sure we can do something for her.”

“You are delightful. What’s your name?”

“Isabella.”

“Wonderful name, Isabella.”

She blushes at the sound of his voice.

“Are you from here?” he asks.

“No, I’m from Sicily, Palermo. I just moved to New York.”

“New York is very lucky to have you.”

Isabella replies with a grin, her cheeks flushed.

I must say, I’m quite entertained observing my godfather flirting with someone. “A heartbreaker,” as Rach and Jess would say. Well, sounds quite accurate. I wonder if he’ll be the same in Rome. My lips twitch into a smile as I picture him flirting, but this time in Italian. To my surprise, though, I can’t picture him doing that with anyone...

But me.

Petra! I immediately brush such thoughts away.





While we finish our main course, I look pensively at the last bit of spaghetti on my plate. “I know why you left,” I declare. “I spoke to Dad…” It’s so hard to talk about it though. “I also owe you an apology.” I look up at him, but I’ve got to lower my gaze again. “I’m… I’m really sorry for the embarrassment I caused. I feel terrible.”

“Petra, it’s all forgotten.” He reaches for my hand; the corners of my mouth lift timidly at his touch. I look again into his blue eyes and try hard not to get lost in them. Oh boy. “You were just a child. Don’t worry about it.” He pauses. “Honestly, I found it cute.”

I burst into laughter. “Only you would say something like that.” I shake my head, beaming with joy. “It wasn’t cute. Rather embarrassing. Very embarrassing. I’m so sorry for Amanda...”

“It’s all good, really. Don’t worry about it.” God, his smile is enough to heat up the entire room. “So, am I forgiven now?”

“Of course you are.” I giggle at his question. “What about me?”

“Hmm… Only if you promise not to call my next girlfriend a witch.”

“I can’t promise that.”

We both laugh.

“Speaking of girlfriends—”

“I’m not into girls, no,” I interpose playfully.

“I figured that out. Look, in Rome, just be careful, alright? Mainly with Andrew. Neither your dad nor I will be there to protect you.”

What? You’re not joining us? My heart skips a beat. But who’ll be there to eat a traditional gelato with me while exploring the Piazza di Trevi? Who’ll be there to make me laugh? Who’ll be there to hold and kiss my hands and make me feel so special and safe? Andrew? Yuck! Definitely not!

Hmm... I’ve suddenly got a plan.

“Well, I find him cute,” I say, taking a sip of my strawberry milkshake. This’ll be fun. I wait patiently for his reaction.

“Who? Andrew?”

“Yes. Andrew Sullivan.”

“Petra, forget it. Andrew is definitely not a good fit for you.”

“And how do you know that?”

“First, he is way too old. Do you know how old is he? At least thirty-three.”

“And you are forty, yet so many young girls are into you. Look at Emma.”

“Emma is definitely not a role model to follow,” he snaps.

“I don’t think Andrew sees it as a problem either…”

“He’s a real douchebag!” I try hard to suppress a victorious smile. His concerns about Andrew are even more palpable than I expected. “Promise me you’ll behave in Rome.”

I take another sip with amusement. “We’ll see.”

“Who ordered the warm chocolate brownie?” asks Isabella staring at him.

“It’s for her.”

Isabella bends slightly over the table, putting her cleavage on display for Alex. Looks like she wants him to stare. She places the brownie in front of me and a spoon in front of Alex, handing him a napkin. “I brought you an extra spoon in case you want a taste. And here’s a napkin.” She winks at him before leaving.

Discreetly, he opens the white paper napkin to find her phone number written down. A cheeky smile settles on his lips, and I find myself mirroring it.

“You’re such a heartbreaker, Mr. Van Dieren,” I tease as usual, head shaking.

“What can I do?” He puts the napkin in his pocket. “Too many desperate women in Manhattan…”

“Of course, poor you. Trying to save them all.” I can’t help but laugh. “Were you like that with Amanda?”

He cringes at the question. “Relationships are complex, Petra…”

“Or you are complex?”

He exhales loudly in return. “Maybe. Well, eat your brownie before it gets cold.”

I take my spoon, look down at my prey already melting, and attack my defenseless brownie, taking a first mouthful.