NOT GIVING UP ON FOREVER

Chapter 16

The café was indeed close by, but the road the Italian took Anna was worth it. They walked through a charming landscape park called Sempione, and Anna learned that Randall lived in the historic part of Milan, where every stone was a landmark. He fervently narrated to her the details of this or that place, half composing descriptions that sounded so improbable that Anna could hardly restrain her laughter.

He was in an excellent mood and craved to know the girl. They coquettishly exchanged glances all the time and nudged each other for some jokes. Randall had the camera with him, so he kept shooting Anna, crying out the names of the places they were passing as if giving her a command to stop and freeze for a memorable photo.

"Peace Arch!!" Randall shouted in the voice of a mad guide. "Built in 1807 by the great Napoleon himself!"

Anna raised an eyebrow.

"1807? Hard to believe."

"Shame on you, tourist! It is reliable information. I read it yesterday on Wikipedia!"

"I'll double-check!" she giggled.

Randall took her hand. Anna was pleasantly surprised and reciprocated. Noticing this, he smiled and squeezed her palm a few more times.

"Palazzo del Arte!" he exclaimed solemnly and added, not yet dissipating the impression, "Designed by Giovanni Muzio in 2018!"

Anna laughed.

"It's a brand new building indeed!"

Randall blushed and laughed too.

"I meant the year 1018! Yes, yes!"

"Well, of course, you did!"

All the way, he showed her picturesque places in the park, not letting go of her hand. Anna couldn't stop looking at him. She made sure he didn't see that she couldn't pull her eyes off him. He didn't seem to notice anyway, as well as views of numerous passing girls who shamelessly admired his appearance groaned and gasped, receiving his answering smile.

They reached an excellent cozy cafe, owned by a full gloomy Arab who preferred to follow everything in his restaurant from the far corner, so that was the best angle. Anna continually cowered under his intense unfriendly eyes, but Randall didn't seem to pay attention to anyone but her.

All his mind was full of Anna. He inquired if she was comfortable if she liked the food. He ordered for her his favorite dishes, which he mentioned so many times in their conversations online. He endlessly asked questions, trying to get to know her better.

The phone rang. Anna darted a glance at the screen, trying not to interrupt the story of Randall's school years, which he was telling her in detail, chewing a piece of chicken. Mark's number came up. Anna closed the phone screen with her hand. Her face showed embarrassment because Randall suddenly asked:

"Ex-boyfriend?"

Anna blushed.

"What? No, no, it's not! A colleague. Work issues," she began stammering. "I hate it when they don't give me a minute's rest, not even... when I take the rest!"

They laughed, and Randall, his mouth full of chicken again, continued the story. Anna swallowed, thinking of Mark. Why was she reacting like this? They were just friends, and she didn't have to answer him. Last few months, they had been talking desultorily, mostly because of Anna's growing resentment.

The more time passed since their breakup, the more she grew hurt by the unrelenting pain of the way he had broken up with her. She had to move on. If Mark loved her, he would have called for her long ago instead of inviting her over for Christmas vacation.

What did he want? Why was he even calling? To ruin her time with the handsome Italian? No, he couldn't do that! He better bounce!

Anna pressed "Cancel Call" and disconnected the phone. She looked up at Randal, who had once again answered the waitress with a loving look that no, thank you, they do not need anything and no, thank you, you can leave the menu on the table, as well as no, thank you, we will decide if we need anything.

Anna beamed. That waitress had no chance. "Randall is mine!" she whispered with a sneer, but it seemed that the wind carried it to the ears of the cafe worker, and she did not approach them anymore.