Chapter 33

I sit downon my bed in a huff. "I don't want to go, Cara."

She throws a shirt at my head. "I know, but you have to get back out there. You need to get over Lorenzo. Living in this limbo state like you have for the past few months is not good for your mental health."

"What if I don't want to get over him?"

"Summer, you haven't heard from him in two and a half months," she says gently, sitting next to me on the bed.

She's right, I know she's right, but going to this holiday party tonight feels like I'm betraying him somehow. I wonder if he's met someone, and that's why I haven't heard from him. That thought is like being stabbed by a dull knife.

The painting hangs center on the wall across from my bed where the TV used to be. It's painful to have the constant reminder of Italy and him, but it's too beautiful to tuck away in a closet. I fall asleep each night, reliving our night together under the tree. The red silk tank sits on my bed like a beacon, calling to me to move on with my life. I slip it on over my head.

"Cara?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you think the pain will ever go away?"

She draws me into a side-hug. "It will. You'll meet someone new, and life will take over. It just takes time. Things will get better, I promise. I honestly think it's good you haven't heard from Lorenzo in a while. Maybe he needed to let go, too." She picks her wrap up off my bed. "I'll meet you outside."

I pick up my phone and stare at the blank screen. My finger hovers over the text button, but I don't press it. Perhaps Lorenzo is doing us both a favor. Pressing the button, I read the last text message I sent him.

Me:How are you? I miss you.

That was from a month ago, and I never received a response. I need to move on and forget Lorenzo Rossi. Well, maybe not forget, but remember him fondly from the time I got lost in Tuscany.

The crowded baris hopping with singles and couples ready to mingle. It's a meet-and-greet holiday mixer hosted by the dating site, The One. I can't believe I let Cara and Damien drag me out to this. The only reason I agreed was to get Cara off my back. She's been hounding me for weeks since she received the email about this event. I told her she could have one hour of my time, and then I'm out.

Cara meanders off to find Damien, who is meeting us here, while I melt into the crowd. I step up to the bar and squeeze myself in between two people while I try to signal the bartender. If I'm going to survive the next hour, I'm going to need something stronger than wine or beer. The guy next to me glances over and smiles. He holds up a finger, and the bartender nods his head. "What would you like?" he asks me.

"A vodka and Sprite, please."

"A vodka and Sprite for the beautiful woman in red. Hi, I'm Carter."

"Hi Carter, Summer." I shake his hand. He has a cute smile.

"Have you been to one of these events before?"

"No, my friend Cara dragged me out tonight." I roll my eyes, making him chuckle.

"My first one, too. It's crowded. You from around here?"

"Yeah, Burlingame."

"I live in the city. I'm in real estate," he says.

"Oh wow, that must be interesting. I'm a graphic designer."

"Really? I'm actually looking for someone to help with my logo and website design."

"Oh yeah? I can help you with the logo." I fish my card out of my purse. Before Italy, I would never have had the confidence to offer my design skills, but Lorenzo gave that gift to me, encouraging me to step out of my box.

"Granite Scholastics," he reads the card.

"Yes, it's my day job, but I freelance in design."

The bartender drops off my drink, and I fish a twenty out of my purse. Carter puts his hand on my arm. "It's on me. Just put it on my tab," he says to the bartender.

"Oh, thank you, that's really sweet." I take a sip of my drink and smile. Maybe Cara was right about getting back out into the dating pool.

"You're cute. How is a beautiful woman like you still single?"

Someone bumps into me from behind, and my drink splashes onto Carter's pants. "Oh no, I'm so sorry." I pick up my thin little cocktail napkin from the bar and try to soak it up, but it doesn't help.

Carter grabs some more napkins and dabs his pants. "It's not a big deal—"

"Sorry, didn't mean to bump…hey, don't I know you?"

I tear my attention from Carter to the drink-bumper behind me. I close my eyes. This can't be happening right now.

He snaps his fingers. "Cindy, right? Cin-Dee!"

"Uh, no." I try to turn back around, but he's not giving up.

"No, I know we've met. I never forget a face."

"Lucky me," I mumble.

"Lucky's bar, yeah! So, how have you been, Cindy?" Kevin, the orange-toned bodybuilder who caused me to go home, drink two bottles of wine, and sign up for a bike trip through Italy, grins. The worst date in the history of ever.

I'm packed between people at the bar with Kevin looming in front of me. "It's Summer, and I'm actually in the middle of a conversation with someone." I turn back around, but Carter has vanished. Crap.

"Oh, I remember you now. You were the one who got all huffy on our date when I asked if you were a feminist."

I grit my teeth, looking around the room. Where the fuck are Cara and Damien? "I didn't get huffy. I decided I had had enough."

"You were cute in a grumpy librarian kind of way. Are you here with someone?" He steps closer. This guy is smoking something if he thinks I'm interested.

"I'm—"

"So, what do you say, Cindy? Wanna get a drink?" His eyes flicker down to my breasts.

"Honestly? That's the last thing I want to do." I turn to leave.

"Come on, don't be like that."

His fingers brush my backside, and I snap. I twist back around and throw what's left of my drink in his face, but he's a lot taller than I am, so it ends up all over his shirt. He looks down at his shirt. We both stand there, stunned. Time seems to freeze while everyone around us is staring. Someone hands Kevin a napkin.

I set my glass down and push my way out of the bar into the cold December night.