Antonio rubs his hands. “I will be such a suitor. He will see my passion.” “My plan is that you just smile at me a lot and laugh at whatever I say. It doesn’t have to be over the top.” “He would see my desperation for you.” “Just passion is good,” I say. “No, it’s desperation.” Antonio puts on a dark expression. “I grew up poor in the streets. My father rejected me. My mother was cruel but beautiful. So poor were we that they sold me to a brothel when I was but a boy. I was forced to sell myself in the alleyways of Milano.” “Double Dark Chocolate Milano is my favorite cookie,” I say, trying to
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