GENESIS (GODS CHAIN) (51 page)

Where was his beautiful colleague?
Ciriaco felt like a school boy again as he gaze
d
onto the street towards Ponte St. Angelo bridge; next to the River Tiber. Doubt
began to
creep into his mind
—
would she come?

The Caf
é
was just outside the Vatican City and his date was still nowhere in
sight
! The brown
,
circular stone structure of Castel San Angelo stood in the distance
. Ciriaco watched
the familiar light
-
coloured clothes of
the castle’s
many tourists
as they
meander
ed
around aimlessly. The road outside was cobbled and
led
back through Borgo Santo Spirito
,
onwards to the Vatican and then further on th
r
ough tall lush herbaceous trees lining the streets to the
c
ity.

A family came laughing across the street opposite, a girl about fourteen and
a
boy
of
thirteen
,
with their mother and father close by.
It was early evening
,
although the dark
had come
early tonight.
Ciriaco turned his head around to the sound of the
c
afé
steamer
.

HISSsssss.

Burble
.

Shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhh
...
.

The smell of fresh coffee was strong and aromatic.
The attractive
b
arista behind the bar caught his attention
.

             
‘Would you like another
e
spresso
,
s
ir?’
she asked with a friendly grin.

             
‘
Si, grazie
. The last one was delicious.’ Ciriaco responded
,
looking a little lost.

‘
Si,
it is,’ she agreed. ‘D
id you know sir, that if any of
the
stage
s
from the bean, grind, tamp
,
and pour is not perfect
,
then the
e
spresso will not be correct?’ she replied
,
teasing him a little with her judgment and skill.
She had been trained by the Maestro himself; the
b
arista was used to making the perfect
e
spresso every time!
She spoke in a young and lively melodic voice.

‘The sharp lively quality characteristic of high-grown coffee
is
tasted mainly at the tip of the tongue
, is
it not?’ Ciriaco
offered
in kind.

‘I’m impressed
,
s
ir
—
you obviously know your soft coffee bean
.
’
They
both laughed loudly.

The attractive girl had
naturally shiny
short black hair
that she tied back in a bow
. She smiled at him softly and moved her slim body with graceful agility around the bar.

I don’t believe it, I was
so
charming earlier with Francesca
,
Ciriaco moped a little
.
Then
,
coming back to reality,
he realized that
it was
7:50,
and almost an hour
past
when Francesca
had
agreed to their rendezvous
.
He could not believe it,
she had stood him up
!
He really, really liked her
...
.

She would be trouble
,
Ciriaco knew
.
H
e was a
p
rofessional
, and he
kn
e
w
better than
to mix work with pleasure
.
The fiasco was certain to compromise his position at work.
However, as much as he wished to be relieved at her no-show, t
he young man’s mood was becoming gloomy at
his
miss
ed
opportunity.

Si!
She was going to be big trouble
,
al
l
right!
Ciriaco stood up
,
smiling at the
b
arista.
I thought she would
come
...
pity.
She
seemed keen enough to meet with me
...she must be
t
oo good a catch to be true
.

Why
i
s she not here?

‘Your girlfriend is late
s
ir
?’ the barista prompted.
‘I hope
you don’t mind me being so inquisitive
,
I could not help
but see
you looking far out and over to the Tiber.
I am sure there is a
good reason for her not being here.’
T
he
pretty young girl
smiled at him as she secretly wooed the handsome young man
for
herself.
She smi
led
softly at him with a hint of
...
was it
innocent wickedness?
He knew that expression.
...

The girl lifted the empty coffee cup from his round table and placed it on her tray, replacing the empty with a fresh one as Ciriaco
looked up at her
.

‘
W
ould you like a piece of cake or, anything else?’
Her body held the
suggestion of warmer delights
as she
hand
ed
him the menu.

Ciriaco smiled
, knowing that
she would be much more pleasurable than the delightful coffee.
The light yellow menu
was covered
with wine
-
coloured Palatino fonts displaying a mature menu with all
-
day breakfast.
The café sponsor was displayed
at the
bottom left with a red wine
-
coloured
VSS logo
.

‘What is your name?’ Ciriaco asked as his pulse quickened.

‘Jagbir.
I am delighted you asked.’ She giggled a little.

‘Mmm
,
the
p
anini looks good.’
H
e smiled.
She is fun
,
thought Ciriaco.

‘I recommend the spicy
panini,
sir
,
’
she winked,
suggesting
yet
other hot delights not on the menu.
She served
a good cup of coffee
,
but not the best
.
The best was yet to come.

             
‘No, no thank you, no
p
anini.’ Both
of them
laughed a little
,
teasing each other.
The pretty
b
arista
eyed
him
as she
moved back to the bar
,
rubbing a glass with her cloth.
The sound of light music could be heard drifting from the other side of the
c
af
é
.
It was
Luigi Boccherini's famous minuet, from his String Quintet in E major.

There were a few other clients in Caf
é
Dabbruzzi’s
,
all tasting the culinary
treats of
their exceptional menu. Good hearted laughter and friendly banter
echoed
from a small group of women and men drinking wine and eating fresh
Panini bread sandwiches.
The
M
aestro of
Dabbruzzi’s
was chatting genially with his patrons.
A couple gazed at each other, a mature lady played with a tall
,
slim glass.
Cappuccino frothing at the top, the woman stirred
her glass
slowly with her long spoon
,
almost with orgasmic delight and then sipped it down slowly
,
looking
deeply
into the eyes of her husband.
Their r
omance was still real, running still deeper than the deepest
o
cean.