The Fallen Girls 💍

Chapter Fifteen: Matchmaker

Izzy hesitated under the green and white awning of the quaint Italian restaurant. A pair of flickering lanterns at the door, coupled with the traditional Italian music drifting from within, created a warm, romantic atmosphere. It might have set her at ease if she hadn't been so busy second guessing her decision to come.

It wasn't that she was worried about meeting Gene alone. She instinctively knew he was harmless and wouldn't take advantage of her. She was more worried about leading him on and perhaps hurting his feelings. Although he was quite handsome, and seemed to be an extraordinarily decent man, she didn't feel drawn to him in a romantic way. The funny thing was—she hadn't sensed he had feelings for her in that regard either.

The inside of the little restaurant was just as charming. Red and white checkered tables filled the dark wooden room, each adorned with a flickering candle encapsulated in a jar. In the corner, a group of three elderly men played a lilting tune; one with an accordion and two with violins.

An older man with a long white mustache greeted her, his eyes sparkling under his wrinkled skin. "Good evening, signorina. You must be Miss Twiss."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't expected them to know her name.

The man smiled. "Come with me, my dear." He lead her through the little dining area to a set of red velvet curtains lined with gold cording. Behind them was a small private area with a table for two. The walls were adorned with beautiful paintings of a village that Izzy guessed was somewhere in Italy. "Please, please have a seat," he said, motioning to the table. "Let me bring you some wine while you wait for il tuo amore."

Before she could speak, he was gone. She blew out a nervous breath, trying to make sense of what he'd just said. She looked around the little room, wondering where Gene was and why he'd wanted to meet at such an intimate place. The room was far too romantic a setting for a meeting between friends. Perhaps he'd chosen it because it was private and secluded; less likely to draw the attention of the paparazzi. She swallowed nervously, unable to take her eyes off the curtain.

Rita and Gloria had helped her with her hair and makeup. It was twisted above her head with a few tendrils hanging down. She wore Rita's mink coat over-top a light blue evening gown.

Her heart skipped a beat as the curtain parted. The older man appeared again; two thin stemmed glasses in his hands. He set one next to her and another across the table. With practiced grace and flare, he poured the wine into her glass. "He should be here any moment, my dear," he said with a wink.

She bit her lip, her finger circling the rim of the glass as he left the room. What was she doing? She needed to let him know how she felt right away. It was beginning to seem as if he expected more than she was willing to give.

The music played in the other room and she tapped a finger on the glass wondering where he was. It was almost ten minutes past six. Getting stood up would be even worse than having to curtail his advances.

"Gene, this better be good. I had to come all the way from LA—." The curtain flew open. Wes stood in front of her, his mouth dropping open—the rest of his words trailing off.

"What—," Izzy almost spilled the glass in front of her, jolting forward to catch it. "What are you doing here?" She pushed back the chair, jumping to her feet. What was going on?

"I was going to ask you the same thing." A vein on his forehead throbbed as he looked around the little room. "Gene! That conniving bastard! Did he talk you into this?"

Something inside of her exploded. How dare he! "You can't be serious! You think I came here to see you? Gene told me to meet him here for dinner." She drew in a breath as the reality of the situation sunk in. Tears sprang to her eyes, regardless of how much she tried to hold them back. "Gene. He lied to me," she spoke mostly to herself, still not believing it. "This whole thing—it was all a game. How could he do this?"