But I honestly didn’t share those views at all. While I certainly thought my parents were a bit old fashined in their overall views of gender-relations, the idea of an arranged marriage had never bothered me much. I supposed it was because my own parents had been the product of an arranged marriage, and they were far happier than most couples I knew. Their marriage had survived throughout decades and was still thriving. I saw the love that the two of them shared for one another, and I knew that it was real. I could only hope to someday have the kind of marriage they enjoyed.
And it looked like that day was on the horizon.
“I know it may be a bit nerve-wracking, but your father and I were very careful to find someone we felt would be a suitable partner for you. You know we only want the best for you.”
I nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“Are you scared?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said, genuinely meaning it. I wasn’t scared about the arranged marriage itself. I just simply hoped that the man of my parents’ choosing would be someone I could see myself being happy with for the rest of my life. It wasn’t like they could really know my ‘type.’ Heck, I didn’t even know my type, and my lack of dating experience with men didn’t help matters any.
“Good,” my mom said. She leaned over and brushed my hair behind my ear. “Because I don’t want you to be nervous. I want you to be happy, just like I am with your father.”
I smiled and clasped my mother’s hands. “And that’s all I want too, Mama. I want a marriage just as perfect as you and Daddy’s.”
She beamed at me, her smile so bright and wide that it instantly made her look years younger. At that moment, she could have been my sister rather than my mother. “You’ll be meeting him tomorrow. I can’t tell you how excited I am for you!”
Although I wasn’t nervous, I was slightly taken aback by the fact that the meeting would be happening so soon. I smiled, although I inwardly wondered how long ago my mother and my father had picked my future husband without telling me about it. How long had it taken them to find him? Did any of my brothers already know about him?
However, I knew it ultimately didn’t matter. What was done was done, and I would be meeting my future husband within a day.
I suddenly no longer felt like spending a relaxing evening at home.
Tonight, there was a need to celebrate my last day as a single woman. If there was ever a time to meet up with friends to go out for a night on the town, it was now.
CHAPTER 4
Giovanni
I had initially contemplated going out to the club with friends and treating the night like an impromptu bachelor party, but decided against it at the last minute, choosing instead to keep the night somewhat low-key. Besides, it was easier to pick up women that way when I was solo. I had learned a while ago that women didn’t like being ogled by big groups of men, unless, of course, they were on stage and being paid for it. In everyday situations though, that kind of thing was intimidating. When a woman saw a guy with a bunch of his friends checking her out, it tended to make her feel like prey being chased by a pack of wolves, and I didn’t like making women feel that way.
Even though settling down had never quite been an appealing idea to me, for I loved playing the field entirely too much, it didn’t change the fact that I had great respect for women. One of my biggest pet-peeves was a man who didn’t know how to treat a lady. Guys that abused women made me sick to my stomach, and that included men who tended to get a little too aggressive and touchy whenever a woman wasn’t consenting. My fists had dealt with plenty of guys like that over the years, to say the least.
“Here you are, sir.”
I smiled as the female bartender came over to bring me another beer. With a buddy of mine being the owner of the bar, I never had to deal with waiting in line to place my drink orders. I got served personally and directly.
“Thanks, darling,” I said, winking at her and sliding a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill into the pocket of her apron.
She blushed and muttered a quick thank you before scurrying off. The expression on her face let me know that she likely knew who I was. People were always a little hesitant about receiving what they felt was ‘dirty money,' but they hardly ever turned it down either because, at the end of the day, all money was green.
I took a sip of my beer and leaned back in my chair, bopping my head to the music playing and scoping out the scene before me. I’d picked my favorite table, located in the back of the club so that I could have a good view of everything. On nights that I didn’t feel like being a part of the action, I just liked to watch. Being observant is a trait that runs deep in my family, and it’s something that naturally came out of me both at work and at play.
Through the dim lighting of the club, I saw that the dance-floor was packed with women. From the looks of it, the group of women in question was clearly out celebrating something. Perhaps a birthday, a bachelorette party, a college graduation—whatever the occasion, they all had on their s
exiest dresses and high-heels, with hair and makeup styled to perfection. Men stood around their circle, eyeing them and trying to figure out how to get one of them alone. But they were far more into each other than the guys waiting around them like vultures.
I turned my gaze to the tables around mine, which were occupied by twos and threes. At several tables, couples talked over drinks. At others, guys flirted with the women they’d been dancing with. At one far table in the corner, a couple was making out so vigorously that it was clearly past time for them to get a room. At another table, a pair of guys sat, talking and laughing over beers.
And at another table, a beautiful young woman stood, looking clearly agitated. I sat up straighter in my chair, leaning to get a better view.
That’s when I noticed the guy in front of her.
Instantly, I began to feel irritated. I knew this guy’s type all-too well. He smiled, clearly oblivious to the fact that the woman he was forcing his company on did not want him there. A strained smile that was more like a grimace remained plastered on her pretty face as she shook her head. When she tried to step away, the creep put his hand on her shoulder.
I slid back in my chair.
Hold on, Gio, I told myself. Don’t go rushing off to be the hero so quickly. How do you know she can’t take care of herself?