Roxana

Christian smiles. The boyish grin and the dimples on his cheeks always make my heart flutter.

"Hey! I was expecting you only tomorrow. Do you want coffee? I have gotten the good stuff from Tomaso, bless his soul," I say, smiling back a bit nervous.

"You seem to get along well with him," replies Cristian and comes closer leaning against the desk to my right.

"I do. He is a cool guy."

"You also adapted surprisingly well. Proud of you. Come, get your jacket."

"It's nine in the morning. I still have a full day of work in front of me."

"So diligent. But the boss is here and he is taking you out," he answers winking.

"I thought that was planned only for tomorrow."

I can't suppress a smile though.

"No. Tomorrow in the morning you have to take a site tour with us."

"Okay. Should I ask some of the boys to join too?"

"No. Your presence alone will suffice."

"Aye-aye, sir. Hmm but now that I think about it, a guy from Mr. Messina's staff told me in a very ominous way to stay away from his boss. I can also brief Damian to walk with you."

"Huh? Who said that? Tomaso?"

"No, some other guy. I think he is in charge of security. I don't know his name."

"Bah, we are not listening to random guys. If it's not Tomaso we don't care. Just ignore him, and let's go."

All smiles, I grab my jacket and get into his rental car.

He drives us to Taormina to a restaurant on the beach.

I am so smithed with everything: the breeze, the view, and him most of all; I just wish I had dressed better for the occasion.

In truth, I have not been shopping at all in the last three years and my better, more girly, clothes from the time I still cared, were all left in Moldova. Ah, whatever. I just wish to have been nicer to look at because he definitely is.

Today he is wearing jeans and a mint green shirt that is bringing up the color of his eyes. His dark blonde hair falls lightly over his forehead, making shadows play gracefully on his face.

The restaurant looks expensive; definitely, not one I would have gone to even if I didn't owe money to the mob. 

He orders an omelet with tomatoes and olives and a coffee and I am conflicted. I know he will be paying but I feel bad to order something too expensive so I just settle for a croissant and a coffee.

"How do you like it here so far?" he asks and I feel so flattered that he takes genuine interest in my wellbeing. 

"It's... a bit overwhelming at times. I hope you will find soon a more experienced replacement for me," I answer truthfully.

"About that. We don't have anybody so far."

"Really? Why? I know the project is challenging but that was never an issue. How about Holger or Jens?"

"It's far away and they have families. But this is a unique opportunity to prove your worth, Roxane."

Oh come on, Holger has indeed young children but Jens has been in Nissa for eight months last year for a project. It is also possible that Christian knows more than me about the two, things he does not want to reveal because he is respecting their privacy, so I shouldn't be inconsiderate and just drop it.

"I will do my best to not disappoint you. Where is Lisa?"

"She is having breakfast with Mr. Messina while discussing the project."

"Really? Without you?" I ask, honestly wondering. This opinion might have been better kept for myself but it just blurred out. 

They are doing something shady I bet. They probably have an affair. Not that it is any of my business if they do; it can be beneficial for the company.

"Yes, Lisa is more than capable of doing that alone. They only choose colors and textures; they don't need me for that. We will be having a more technical conversation in the afternoon."

We both eat enjoying the view. I ask him about Peter and the other colleagues, and from time to time, just sit in silence and admire his smile. He asks about the progress of the project and if I have interacted with the boss so far.

I skip carefully mentioning our nightly encounter and talk about Tomaso.

The waiter brings us the bill. Christian's phone starts ringing and he stands up to answer it.

"Can you take care of this, please? I will be right back," he says exiting the restaurant.

Well, shit. Yes, I can, but do I want to? Not really. Not in my present financial circumstances. 

I am more than fine with paying my half of the bill, I am also fine with inviting someone but not when I am broke as can be. Sighing, I give the waiter my card with one of the most forced smiles of my life, plastered over my pale face. 

This means it will be only milk with cereal till the end of the month for me, if I still have money for milk, if not, water. My heart almost hurts when the card reader beeps.

We drive back and he doesn't mention anything about the little incident. He must have forgotten but petty me remembers. Petty, petty me.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully. Christian is in meetings and I go on with my job.

The next morning, a damn Saturday, but hey I am a model employee that really needs the job, I clean my site boots, put on my best t-shirt and jeans, and walk to the meeting set for nine a.m.

Christian and Lisa arrive first. Lisa greets me with more than a nod, which must mean Christian told her to treat me nicely.

After that, I see Italian hunk and his cupbearer, the cranky guy in black, followed by Tomaso and some bodyguards walking over.

Stefano's eyes land on me first. Only after that does he acknowledge Lisa and in all honesty, I wonder why, because Lisa looks precious today. As deep as our animosity goes I have to admit she looks gorgeous. Her gold-blond hair is tied together in a semi-sophisticated bun, her make-up is skilled and makes her sea-blue eyes even bigger and her legs seem endless in that skirt.

I cannot compete. I wear site-clothing, no makeup, and am as sleep-deprived as ever. It's not that I want to compete either. Ok, the guy looks hot but that's about it. He is one of the thousands of hot guys who walk around this earth and have zero to do with me.

We talk about the state of the building, our approach, and the timeline. I struggle to remain coherent while Stefano's eyes are on Lisa but wander once in a while to me and, the guy in black's eyes are wandering between him and me.

Neither of them exaggerates however and I brush it off.

Christian is translating to Italian. I find it honestly stupid because everyone speaks English here, but well I suppose he wants to be extra accomodating...

After finishing the speech I ask if there are further questions. Christian and Stefano talk a bit in Italian and after that, Christian tells me I can leave.

I say a polite goodbye to everyone and turn my back to them. 

"See you later, goffa ragazza svizzera," says Stefano, winking.

I smile nervously and walk away. I've been doing this pretty often lately.

Unlike last time, this weekend I can stay here on the domain even if there will be guests. Nice.

Hours later, I make myself some lunch, which consists of plain rice and ketchup and open my laptop to do some work. I must admit I am curious how he called me but I don't know how to write that. Ragazza is girl, but the rest... Rox, you have work to do and not much energy to put into bullshit.

Around four, there is a knock on the door, and Christian steps inside the container.

"Rox, you have to hurry. You have to join us at the party at six."

"What? Why?"

"Well, the client said he has further questions about the contractors and I don't know anything about that."

"Could he not have said that a bit earlier?" I ask but notice my rude undertone."I guess I have to go, right?"

"Yes, there's no way around it. Do you have anything to wear?"

"Well, my roommate left a party dress here. I can wear that one."

"Ok, cool. Go shower and I will ask Lisa for some make-up for you and bring it."

Oh my God, he must really want me to come if he offers that.

I shower quickly and blow-dry my hair. I have not done that in years. My hair is silver blond, inherited from my half-Russian mother, and waist-long after not having been cut in three years. Now that I look at the curling ends it appears quite beautiful, not as messy as it usually does when I tie it up in a ponytail or a braid.

The dress Kary left here for me is ivory. Damn, I did not even look at it, because I thought I will not be wearing it anyway. This damn color will for sure stand out.

With tremendous effort, I dig out some tiny underwear, from what feels like a decade ago that shouldn't be noticeable through it. Kary left an adequate bra to go with the plunging neckline too. She is one attentive friend. Even if not very, I am kind of curvy and that cleavage might draw attention. I really don't want attention, but it is how it is.

The shoes are really nice. Nude high-heel pumps. Kary has class and impeccable taste. I can't remember how long it has been since I wore pretty shoes. It feels actually... wonderful. 

Christian left a makeup bag on the table in the meeting room. He actually took care of that. That is so nice of him. I apply some foundation and liquid eyeliner, together with nude lipstick. Is Lisa going to throw the stuff away after I use it? Would be a pity; everything is expensive.

I obviously don't have a big mirror to look into in the trailer, so I conclude that everything looks as good as it can look in the given situation and step outside.

Oh, the things one does for work. This whole situation is giving me anxiety.

"Roxane... du siehst... hübsch aus./ Roxane... you look... pretty." Lisa voices the first compliment that ever passed her lips in my regard.

"Danke, das is sehr net von dir, und danke für das make up. Du siehst sehr schön aus./ Thank you. It is nice of you to say that and thank you for the make up. You look very good yourself."

Christian turns around and raises his eyebrows when he looks at me.

"You look... different."

For the first time, something in his attitude towards me seems to have changed, as I feel through the fabric of the dress how his hand is sliding to my lower back while we are walking toward the building.

I have never entered it even if meanwhile I know the plans by heart. Oh my, does it look epic.

The brittle limestone from the outside is replaced by Carrara marble and golden details. The ceilings are very high and decorated with baroque paintings, and the atmosphere reeks of old money. Light invades the great ballroom through the massive glass doors that lead to the terrace and frame a soon-setting sun. I am lost in admiration of the old stone walls, the crystal chandeliers, and the sophisticated guests who are walking in on the classical music tunes played by the black-dressed quartet.

It's quite obvious that I have never been to such a fancy party ever before.

Smiling at the waiter, I take some appetizers from a tray and a glass of champagne, happy to have fancy and most of all free food.

"Das willst du doch nicht essen, oder?/ You don't really wanna eat that, right?"

"Doch. Warum nicht?/ Yes. Why not?"

"If you eat anything the dress will not look good anymore so refrain from that. We are here to look pretty."

"Ok, ok," I answer disappointed but somehow grateful that Lisa bothered to react.

After about half an hour, Stefano enters the ballroom, moving confidently through the crowd, searching Lisa with his gaze.

I turn around to not be judged as impolite. His eyes move up and down on my body in the most shameless way.  It makes me feel shy and low-key uncomfortable. 

He is wearing a suit and his shoulder-long, wavy hair looks smooth. I bet a lot of ladies dream of running their fingers through it. He is indeed a handsome man, the cherry on top being all the muscles under his shirt.  His big brown eyes look hungry and he is biting his plump lower lip while smirking.

In the back, I see the rooftop guy, whom I still don't know the name of, hurrying over through the crowd with eyes fixed on Stefano and a somewhat desperate gaze, looking like he needs to prevent a casualty.

Stefano lifts Lisa's hand to his lips.

"Let's dance," he says simply to her.

I expect Lisa to smile and flirt back but she looks a bit frightened and reluctant. What's going on?

"I... I can't dance. But look, I am sure Roxane can,"  she says pointing to me.

His gaze turns to me and he walks over.

"Va bene, even better," he replies with a sly grin on his face and bows over to whisper into my ear "I was keeping you for dessert, but hell I do like to eat dessert first."

Ok, point for you Kary. This guy indeed wants to have his lollipop licked... by me, among others.

What now? I suppose I have to take one for the team. I look at Christian. He smiles and nods and I feel... strange. 

"S... sure," I mutter putting my small hand into his.

Over his shoulder, I see the guy in black's dark eyes turning stormy and his lips voicing probably a curse.

"Stefano," is the only thing he is saying when he reaches us and his voice doesn't sound as meek as you would expect. 

"Rilassati, qui mi diverto, ballerò il tango con il piccolo diamante di fango./ Relax, I am having fun here. I will dance the tango with the little mud diamond." Sure, whatever you say, sir. 

But then he frowns and takes his phone out of his pocket. 

"Ah cazzo, I have to take this. Aziz always chooses the worst moments. How about you dance with Roxana? The music is starting. I will be back, tesoro."

It seems my frienemy is as startled as I am. He just takes my hand like he is in a trance, dark eyes drilling into my gaze making me shiver.

I am however not frightened... how odd.