PAY IT BACKWARD
"It’s almost as if you were smoking wine.” – Lorenzo took decanter and poured some more “Mi Sueño” into Olga’s glass. “The same when you aerate it. It brings out all these flavors you could easily miss."

“You are right! But it feels… stronger?”

“Yes, goes straight to your blood stream.”

“I have to agree that it is a different sensation but maybe…” She laughed. “You are just trying to get me drunk!” She felt her lips starting to burn and pressed glass with iced water against it. “But you know, when I drink wine like that it’s like… “A-ha moment” if you know what I am talking about.”

He looked at her from across the table.

“You are the A-ha moment, bella.”

Olga clutched her hand into a fist underneath the table.

“Thank you. You say that because you did not see me doing anything silly yet.”

“Whatever you do, you are beautiful.”

Liar. Flashed in her head.

“And absolutely adorable.”

Liar. Liar.

She looked around. People were leaving. There were only a few couples still sitting at the bar. The music was different too. It became more of a late-night lounge type, its beat got slower.

“I cannot believe that this place was packed just a few hours ago. It seems so quiet now”.

"A few hours?!” He looked at his Rolex. “You are right! You are fun, bella.” He looked at her very attentively. “I really like being with you.”

Liar. Liar. Liar.

“You are a player, Lorenzo.” Olga said after a short pause.

“What did I do to make you think so? Or you think all Italians are players?”

“It’s just… the way you behave. Your level of confidence. You are smooth. Like an… artist. A pick-up artist.”

He laughed.

“I consider it as a complement, but I am not a player. I just say what I think, and I know what I want. Anything wrong with it?”

“No. Still, I think you are a player.”

“So, you do not trust me?”

“Nope.”

“So, you do not believe it when I tell you that I think that you are beautiful and intelligent and that I think it was my lucky day yesterday because I got your number?”

“No, I don’t.” Olga had a sip of wine. She curved her eyebrow and looked at him.

“Why don’t you believe me?” Lorenzo reached out and took her hand.

“Because I don’t. I just don’t.”

“Were you hurt?”

Olga pulled her hand away.

“Weren’t you?” She asked with a smile.

"I was.”

“So, don’t you learn your lessons?”

“I do. But every new person is like a new start. Does a presumption of innocence ring a bell?”

Olga played with the napkin. She knew that he kept looking at her waiting for her reply, but she said nothing.

“Were you hurt bad?”

She looked at her watch. “It’s getting late.”

“You were.” He leaned back against the leather chair. “I am sorry, bella.”

He kept starring at her. She did not break the silence.

“That’s why though you seem to be so open, almost careless, you actually keep everything inside. You do not trust people, don’t you?”

He signed the bill and handed it to the waitress.

“You were hurt. And you were hurt bad.”

"Does not matter.”

“But tell me. Why is it that the new person in your life is to pay the price for the person who came before?”

She reached to her temples with the hands, pressed against it as if she had a splitting headache and starred at the table. “It’s late. I have to go.”

"We will. I will walk you to your car.”

It was chilly outside. The sky was clear. The moon was floating right above, shining its silver light upon the darkness below. It felt like winter. The cold wind was getting right through Olga’s dress and straight to her bones. She shivered and unlocked her car.

“Thank you. I really enjoyed the evening. You are very generous, smart and I like the way you think. You are a straight shooter. I like it.”

“Straight shooter but a player?”

“Yes.”

"When will I see you again?”

“It is a long drive for you.”

“LA is not that far, and I just don’t care. When will I see you again?”

Olga took a deep breath. “Lorenzo, I am damaged. Run away from me. If you like me, I will hurt you. Delete my number. That’s the best thing you can do.”

He came closer and ran his fingers through her hair. “You know I won’t do that. You are a good person, Olga. When will I see you again?”

She looked at him, reached out and held his face in the palms of her hands. She liked his face: hazel eyes with tiny wrinkles from smiling or starring at the sun too much, nose with a classic hill, well outlined lips, dark brown wavy hair.

“You are sweet.”

She gave him a little kiss.

“Next week. On Sunday.”

She got into the car and started the engine.

She squeezed the wheel as she saw him walking toward his car. Her nails pinched her skin as she heard the low roar of the engine. As she saw him driving away, she pressed her body into the seat and closed her eyes. Few minutes later, she reached for the phone.

Lorenzo.
Clear Message History.
Yes.
Edit.
Scroll all the way down.
Block contact.
Yes.
Delete.

"Sorry.”

She turned on the music.

When you were here before
Couldn’t look you in the eye

She turned it up.

You‘re just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry

Anything, anything for could not bear to hear that little quiet voice in her head telling her that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong.

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