He was quiet at first, but continues to surprise me, randomly asking me questions about my life or spurting out a story from his childhood. I tell him about New York and how I’m a novelist. He knows I’m struggling with my latest book but isn’t aware of how far I’ve let it go. He doesn’t push me and I’m grateful. Our conversations bounce back and forth, easy and weightless with zero gravity.
Today, we’ve decided to walk to Vatican City. We’re about three quarters of the way there when I ask, “So, are you missing home yet?”
“Not particularly,” he answers.
“How about your friends? Do you talk to them a lot via text and whatnot?”
“I do sometimes but not a lot. I think I take my vow of silence more seriously than you do.”
“You? Take something seriously? Impossible.”
We soon find ourselves in St. Peter’s Square. Near the obelisk in the direct center, we maneuver past tourists and tour groups who follow smartly dressed guides as they hold up flags to keep people from getting lost. Getting lost in a crowd is easy here. Maybe that’s why I like it so much.
“If you had to pick, what would you say is your favorite place to visit in Rome?”
Liam clasps his hands behind his back and thinks for a moment. “The Catacombs.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s morbid.”
I give him a snarky smile as he watches me from the corner of his eye.
“And what’s your favorite place to visit?” he counters.
I don’t even have to think about it. “The Trevi Fountain. I go to see it at least once a week.”
“I should have guessed. The Trevi Fountain is a very romantic place. The architecture, the water, all of it is very inviting for a dreamer, such as yourself.”
“How can you be so sure I’m a dreamer? Maybe I’m a cut-and-dried, no-nonsense realist like you.”
Liam actually smiles without holding back for once and the aftermath leaves me a little dazzled.
“Right,” he answers, “a no-nonsense realist romance author.”
“Fine,” I concede. “Maybe I am a dreamer. You sound like you disapprove.”
“Of daydreaming? I wouldn’t say I disapprove, entirely. I just think that time can be spent in a more constructive manner.”
“You think so? Tell me then, did you go see the Trevi Fountain?”
“I did,” he answers.
“And what did you think?”
“It was what I expected.”
“Did you throw in a coin?”
“What does that matter?”
“I’m curious. As someone who looks down on dreamers, I think your answer will be telling. So, did you throw in a coin, yes or no?”
Liam pauses. “I happen to carry a lot of spare change.”
“I knew it,” I say, satisfied. “Your high and mighty cynical self threw a coin into the Trevi Fountain and made a dreamy, dreamy wish. No need to be ashamed, it’s perfectly natural.”
“Fine. Maybe I did throw a coin in but I wasn’t happy about it, and I certainly didn’t think that it would alter the course of my life.”
“You have a very pessimistic point of view.”
“So I’ve been told. When I was young, my nanny actually quit because she said I was too depressing to work with.”
“Did she really?” I ask disbelievingly.
“No, turns out Nanny Louisa just had hip issues, though she did tell me I was a very somber eight-year-old.”
I shake my head with a little laugh as we continue walking. Liam is much stranger than he originally let on. I like it.
Twenty minutes later, we’ve left Vatican City and are each enjoying a gelato as we head back in the direction of our apartments. I got chocolate in a cup and he opted for vanilla. A more boring pair could never be found.
“I feel like we should talk about our love lives,” he suddenly says.
I quit shoveling gelato into my mouth long enough to look over at him. “What made you think of that?”
“Nothing in particular. We’ve just been friends for a few weeks now and I realized we’ve never talked about that part of our lives before. It seemed a little strange.”
“I guess it is a little strange,” I say, already dreading where this is going. “How about we start with a couple of warm-up questions first?”
“Sounds sensible.”
I have a trillion questions, but I don’t want to come off as too eager. “Okay, what’s your job?”
“I started a web development firm that was recently acquired by a large corporation. I’m taking a leave of absence before I go back to work under the new management. Though, as of right now, I’m not certain whether I’ll return to the position at all.”
“What’s making you hesitate?”
“I quite like being my own boss. I don’t know if I can go back to answering to someone else.”
“Makes sense,” I say. “You’re a little young to have started your own company, no?”
“Says the thirty-year-old with seven novels under her belt.”
“Trust me, you’d be far from impressed if you knew my current situation.”
“What do you mean?” Liam asks. He seems like he genuinely cares.
I take a hefty spoonful of gelato and wish I never brought it up. “Nothing, I’m just having a hard time finishing off the book I’m working on.”
“Are you under deadline?”
“That I am,” I answer hopelessly.
“When is it?”
Tomorrow. A chilling wave surges through me but I don’t feel it like I should. I should be horrified. Desperate. But I’m not. I’m resigned. Disconnected.
“Soon,” I tell him.
Liam regards me with calm confidence. He has a solutions air about him—a quiet authority. I bet he’d flourish in a hostile work environment.
“What’s changed with this novel?” he asks. “Are you out of ideas or is there something else?”
“I think it’s a mixture of both.”
“I don’t know if this makes sense with writing, but something that always helps me when I’m feeling stuck or unfocused is to set myself up in the same situation I was in when I last had success.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, this obviously applies more for when I’m coding than when I’m in corporate situations, but some of the best
