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Italy.”
     
Fidgeting now and desperate to change the subject despite the fact that there was much more to the story, he asked, “Are you Italian, Sabrina?  You certainly have the eyes, like ripe black olives, my father would have said.”
     
Sabrina smiled and replied, “Yes, I am Italian on my mother’s side and French on my father’s.”  Inwardly, Sabrina knew he was trying to switch the topic of conversation.  She thought sadly how the old truck was the only tangible thing he had left of his father and realized why he had not junked it long ago.
     
“A beautiful combination,” Gio remarked, the smoldering intensity returning to his regard.
     
“Thank you.” She lowered her lashes.  “But please go on with your story…I mean, if it’s not too difficult.”
     
Gio continued, “My uncle and aunt took me in, but treated me very coldly.  I was so distraught that I ended up dropping out of high school and basically inhabited their cramped guest room twenty four hours a day until I could no longer stand their attitudes.  They all but ignored me and even seemed hostile at times.”
     
“That’s odd.” Sabrina interjected.  “Perhaps they were just grieving for the loss of your parents and brother?”
     
“No, they definitely didn’t seem to be grieving.  They just seemed burdened by my presence in their home.  So when summer rolled around, I decided to leave and move back to Vermont.  I contacted Madeline, but she had already found another guy.  Max was the only person who would take me in.  I lived with him and his parents for a few months until I was ready to strike out on my own.  I was totally broke.  My father had been prudent with money, but he didn’t earn enough to be able to save.  That man poured every dime he ever made into the house that went up in flames.  Anyway, when I moved out of Max’s house, I chose a place to rent here in Burlington because, obviously, it was too painful to go back to Mount Hollow.  Then I decided to turn my tragedy into victory.  I applied to the fire academy.” Gio stopped there.  He felt depleted and stripped bare after his lengthy monologue.  But from Sabrina’s warm, benevolent expression, he knew it had not been a mistake to tell her.
     
The waiter brought over their entrees, and Gio inhaled the spicy aroma from his plate of steak pizzaiola, dripping in warm tomato sauce and garnished with fresh basil.  Sabrina was equally pleased with her bowl of pasta primavera, overflowing with bow-tie macaroni, colorful spring vegetables, and creamy alfredo sauce. 
     
Seizing his fork, Gio exclaimed with a wink, “ Mangiano !  Let’s eat!” 
     
Sabrina grinned at him and for a few moments they ate in silence, thoroughly relishing the expertly prepared cuisine in between swigs of wine.  Gio studied her while she ate heartily, silently marveling at her beauty and overwhelming desirability in that snug black dress.  Trying not to stare at her daringly cut neckline, he took an extra long gulp of wine and hastily refilled his goblet.
     
Still brimming with questions and becoming accustomed to the raking perusal of Gio’s stare, Sabrina pursued the topic of the fire.  “How did that horrific inferno start?”
     
With an irritated sigh, Gio replied plainly, “I don’t know.  No one does.  The fire department conducted a brief investigation, but because of the destructive nature of the fire---it crumbled the house into smithereens and charred all its contents---there was no evidence to analyze.”
     
“But that’s crazy!” She exclaimed, appalled by how a disaster could be given such cursory attention.  “How could they let this awful tragedy go unsolved?  I mean, was it arson?  If it was, then this would be a triple homicide in addition…” Sabrina trailed off, noticing the hard look on Gio’s face.
     
“Let’s just change the subject, alright?” He spoke in a firm tone that begged defiance. 
     
But Sabrina would not