Northern Moonlight (4 page)

As Giovanni drove down the road, he mindlessly turned on the radio, positively unable to shake her image from the boiling cauldron of his imagination.
 
Love was not a notion he would welcome into his life, but the touch of a woman certainly couldn’t hurt…And the woman he saw at the diner would more than fulfill his growing needs.
 
Sailing through an amber light, he resolved to comb every square inch of Ver
mont until he found her.

Chapter 2

April 1980

Spring was slowly beginning to bloom and melt gigantic mounds of snow all across New England.  Sabrina, camera in tow, was taking a refreshing stroll along Lake Champlain, admiring the placid waves and cloudless sky.  She frequently took these lakeside walks as a source of inspiration for her photography, to collect her thoughts, and simply to keep her shapely figure in top condition.  Just once Sabrina had tried an aerobics class and nearly guffawed the whole way through.  Never one to follow trends, she had been aghast at the fuchsia legwarmers, lime green headbands, and incessantly bouncy music.  No, she would take the solace and tranquility of a waterfront promenade any day.

As she walked, an ancient looking vehicle parked by a coffeehouse grabbed her keen photographer’s eye.  It was a pick-up truck with dark blue paint chipping off the sides and a coating of rust on the front and rear bumpers.  Sabrina estimated it to be a 1960’s model if not earlier.  Always on the prowl for a unique photo opportunity, she whipped out her camera and adjusted the lens for a close-up shot. 

Just as she was about to capture the image, a gruff male voice behind her demanded, “What do you think you’re doing?!"

Nervously, she turned around to face the man and her eyes widened like saucers at the disarming sight of him.  He was commandingly tall, with an impeccably muscled physique filling out the brown leather jacket he sported.  His complexion seemed naturally bronzed, with the shadow of a heavy beard distinctly visible on his arrestingly handsome face.  She barely noticed the steaming paper cup of coffee in his right hand, but she did notice the lack of a wedding band on his left. 

How could this man not be married?
Sabrina wondered. 
Must have a horrible personality. 
She was nearly breathless by his appearance alone, but the disturbingly intense, appraising look in his sepia eyes completely unnerved her.  Why was he looking at her that way?

“I---um---was just going to take a picture of this vintage truck.  I guess it’s yours?” She said in a small voice, inwardly furious for her lack of composure.

“Why would you want to take a picture of my broken down truck?” His voice was a masculine baritone without inflection.

She explained spitfire, “I’m a photographer---usually I take pictures of travel destinations, not transportation.  But this truck is so unusual---and old---that I thought it would make an interesting shot.” She suddenly felt simultaneously hot and cold as he continued to rake his unreadable but penetrating eyes over her flushed face and form. 

“Well, then, go ahead and take your picture.”  He said blankly, though his eyes betrayed ferocity.

Sabrina gave the stranger a quizzical look, but readily accepted his invitation to photograph the vehicle.  With trembling fingers, she focused her apparatus on the truck, hastily zooming in on the lake for a natural backdrop.  After capturing the image, she looked back at him, uncertain what to say next.  She managed a quick, muffled “thanks” and began to walk away, still feeling his eyes boring into her from behind.

“Would you like to go for a ride?” He inquired in a low, unintentionally seductive tone that she could not ignore.  Yet the brazenness of his words scandalized her.  Would she like to go for a ride?  With this intimidating, unsmiling, two hundred pound stranger?  No, she most certainly would not.

“Excuse me!” She exclaimed.  “What kind of question is that?!  I don’t even know your name!”

“Giovanni Salvatore.” He provided.

Sabrina stiffened her posture and tilted her chin up as she replied, “Well, Mr. Salvatore, thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to politely decline.”  

He seemed slightly amused by her formality as she again turned to strut away. 

“I’ve seen you before…” Giovanni called after her as she whirled around, long mahogany hair flying in the bracing wind. 

“You’ve seen me before?” She asked, perplexed.

“Yeah.  Back in January at the Evergreen Diner.”  This crumb of information was all he offered.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember seeing you,” she said cautiously, still feeling puzzled.

“I know---you seemed to be in a rush that day…what’s your name anyway?” Giovanni prodded, his eyes paradoxically intense and guarded.

She was hesitant to reply, still conscious of the fact that he was a total stranger. Yet, she also flattered that he had remembered her from months earlier. With an air of dignity, she replied, “I’m Sabrina Montrouge.”

Some semblance of a smile came over his grave features as he shifted the coffee cup to his left hand and extended his right for a shake.  She placed her soft, delicate hand in his rough, masterful one and squeezed, aware of an invisible current of electricity that passed between them at the brief contact.

“Do you live in Burlington, Sabrina?” He inquired curiously.

“Yes,” she replied, not wanting to reveal any details about her address.

“Have you been here all your life?” He pursued with an imploring and magnetic gaze.

“No, only for the past five years since I graduated from art school in New York.” Sabrina answered, instantly realizing that she had just unveiled her age.  Wanting to divert attention from that pesky detail, she rebounded with a question of her own, “How long have you been in Burlington?”

He inexplicably averted his eyes and replied vaguely, “Oh, quite some time now…” then, interpreting her displeased expression, Giovanni took a breath and clarified, “I grew up in a small town called Mount Hollow and moved to Burlington shortly after high school to join the fire department.”

This revelation greatly impressed Sabrina.  “That’s a very noble line of work.”  She said sincerely.

Giovanni lowered plentiful black lashes to hood his eyes and seemed deep in contemplation as though her simple compliment had affected him.  But he merely said, “Thank you.”  Returning his eyes to lock with hers, he added, “I guess I was a bit presumptuous before asking you to go for a ride in my truck.”  Sabrina nodded emphatically.  “Maybe we could continue this conversation in the coffee house?”

Glancing at her watch, she frowned.  “Actually, I have to get going to check in at the office.”

“Office?” He echoed.  “When you said you were a photographer, I assumed that translated as starving artist.” He grinned slightly.

Half amused, half indignant and completely hypnotized by the sight of his full lips twisting playfully, Sabrina replied, “All these presumptions and assumptions, Mr. Salvatore.  It just so happens that I work downtown at a magazine.”

Sheepishly, he apologized, “I’m sorry.  No more presumptions or assumptions, Sabrina, I promise.  How about dinner instead---tomorrow night?”

She hesitated for a few beats as tomorrow was a Thursday and she wondered what the urgency was.  Before she could answer, he added, “I would suggest Friday night, but I have an overnight shift at the firehouse.” 

Appeased by this new information, Sabrina accepted graciously, but remained cautious.  “Dinner tomorrow night would be very nice.  Where would you like to meet, Giovanni?”

“Let’s meet at seven at the Florentine Bistro, just a few doors down from the coffeehouse.  They have the best Italian food in Burlington.  And by the way…call me Gio.”

*****

The following evening, Sabrina stood before the mirror, putting the finishing touches on her rich cabernet shade of lipstick.  Her dark eyes were slightly smoky at the edges with strategic dabs of ebony shadow added for a dramatic effect.  Wavy, cascading tresses were pulled simply but alluringly into a tortoiseshell clip, exposing her small ears and sterling silver earrings.  The dress she wore was probably the most provocative one in her closet---a black knit wraparound with silver belt---and distractingly displayed smooth décolletage.

Stepping into black sling-back heels, Sabrina felt butterflies rustle in her stomach as the realization hit her: she was going on a date.  With a total stranger.  Consumed by her active career and the frequent travel it entailed, she had little time to socialize.  The machinations of her life were clear cut and did not deviate for a
soirée
of pleasure. 

But, tonight is going to be different
, she told herself. 
This is an adventure with a handsome and compellingly enigmatic man
.  With a final self-perusal before the mirror, she reached for her clutch purse.  Rolling her shoulders back and straightening her spine to an elegant posture, Sabrina glided downstairs and out the door to her new adventure.

*****

As Gio drove to the Florentine Bistro, truck’s engine rattling and sputtering, he tried to contain his rising excitement.  Since their fateful meeting on the waterfront, all Gio could think of was Sabrina’s angelic face and self-assured, exquisitely feminine demeanor.  This agitated Gio, as he was experienced with women and generally felt
indifferent when going on dates.  At most, he might feel a physical surge at where the night could lead, but this boyish, sweaty-palmed anxiety he felt was unprecedented. 
You’ve been without a woman too long
, he thought to himself, winding the truck around the bend and parking on a side street.

He made long, eager strides towards the restaurant and walked directly over to the hostess as soon as he entered. “Good evening.  I have a reservation for two under the name Salvatore.” Gio spoke cordially as the young, auburn-haired girl checked her reservation book.

“Yes, Mr. Salvatore.  You’re the first in the party to arrive.  If you’d like, you could have a seat at the bar until your guest arrives.”

Gio nodded his head and took a seat on a leather bar stool, facing towards the window so he could watch Sabrina when she arrived.  Gio had waited a full ten minutes when he finally saw Sabrina saunter through the door.  As she walked with a natural sway in her hips, Gio remembered when he first saw her leave the diner, how her catlike gait had completely been his undoing.  Tonight, in her stunning black dress, she was a breathtaking sight, and Gio rose to greet her.