I’m still here in Northern Ireland and hope I’m still not here by end of tomorrow (photo of the Kremlin club). Locked in a hotel conference room, I’m oogling a new employee from Rome. Mid-20’s a true Italian stallion, but more about him in a minute.
My mobile chirps with an incoming text, it’s from TC, “I missed you last night 😡 if you’re free, would like to talk, would be nice“. I’m stunned. Chris has always kept his emotions close, this is a bit warm for him. I phone him at the lunch break. He’s happy to hear from me, we chat a bit and I tell him I liked his text. He gives me a muffled reply and then tells me I’m acting like a women again. Doesn’t matter at this point, I’ve felt his warmth. I’m back in London tomorrow night.
Group dinner at a local restaurant last night. I’ve been chatting up my Italian. Tall dark and handsome. The seating at one table is with small couches for 2. He beckons me to sit with him. With NO not in my vocabulary, we sit down together.
My Rome friend is quite touchy, he leans in to talk to me, his body touching mine, his hand under the table on my knee. Is he straight? Mixed? No idea. Like most Italian men, he talks with his mother several times a day. He’s busy texting away on his mobile (another Italian sport) and asks if I want to see some photos. Sure. Photo 1 – him in a speedo at the beach. Ripped body, narrow waist. Yup – I’m good. Photo 2 – his dog and finally Photo 3 – his girlfriend. Later, we find ourselves at the end of the bar, he’s found a guitar and is playing some songs and singing (all Italians are actors). The consequence of this I get a lot of ribbing from my work colleagues about my new “boyfriend”. If they only knew.
The ease by which I interact with these young guys is sometimes troubling. I clearly am getting emotionally involved with TC. 5 days together created a bond. But neither of us is in a position to act on it. The age difference still lurking in my mind. But I’m climbing this ladder one rung at a time and enjoying the view as a I go.