Truth or Date Read Online Free PDF Page A

into.
    Instead of realizing I’d been kidding around with my silly accent, he gave me a nice compliment. Then he made eye contact with the waiter. “ Vorrei Capellini al Pomodoro per favore .”
    His accent sounded flawless although I didn’t really have any way to test its authenticity. Well, other than the one time I’d rented Under the Tuscan Sun .
    The waiter didn’t seem as impressed, just quickly replied, “I’ll put the order in right away.”
    I placed my napkin in my lap, thinking Ethan was getting more interesting by the minute.  “Where did you learn Italian?”
    “Living in Italy, actually.” His face lit up at the topic. “In college, I spent my junior year abroad at this great apartment in Rome. I’ve only been back to Italy twice since so it’s been challenging to keep hold of the language.”
    Only twice since college? Must be nice. I’d been to Europe, uh, never. My girlfriends and I had spent a long weekend in Cabo once though. That had been pre-George and pre-knowing my drinking limit with margaritas.
    As Ethan rattled on about living in Italy—the tale about drinking his cappuccinos standing up instead of sitting (because it costs less, apparently) was quite entertaining, but the history on the ruins at The Roman Forum had my attention drifting—my eyes drifted toward the entrance and my heart stopped.
    Chris Bradley had just walked in. And not alone. Standing next to him was the anti-Gina. Whereas I was five-foot, four-inches, she had to be at least five-eight. Loose dark curls framed my face, while her ebony strands were long, thick, and straight. And the way she was gazing up at him, I’m betting she wouldn’t make an issue of him suggesting Truth or Date like I had.
    The waiter set a basket of bread on our table and Ethan paused after saying something about Julius Caesar.
    “Uh-huh,” I said, then he continued on. Although I tried to focus on his excitement over Caesar’s letter to Cicero, like a magnet my eyes drifted to where Chris and his lunch date had been seated by the street window. No wonder he’d made it clear to me this dinner with his boss was a friend thing. Why wasn’t he taking the brunette beauty though?
    “Gina?”
    My head whipped back to my lunch date. “I’m sorry. What did you ask me?”
    He finished chewing his bite. “If you’d studied much of Caesar.”
    “Only the salad. I learned that I don’t like anchovies on it.” I wrinkled my nose, unsure if he’d get my sense of humor.
    “I’m sorry.” He chuckled. “My minor was in Italian studies and I tend to talk about Italy’s history more than the average person wants to know. What did you major in?”
    “Frat parties.” I smiled and put my hands in my lap as the waiter set our dishes on the table. “And also Accounting.”
    “Tell me about that.”
    I gave Ethan the run down on my dad’s plastering business and how I’d learned to run his books in high school, which naturally fed my interest in accounting. He seemed engrossed listening to my background, which was sweet since it really wasn’t that extraordinary. The only way this lunch date could improve would be if I could stop glancing at Chris’s table. Suddenly, Chris’s date rose from her chair and strode toward the restroom. When I looked back toward Chris, our gazes locked.
    He’d caught me spying on him!
    My face heated and I turned back to Ethan as casually as possible. “What was I saying?”
    Ethan’s brows came together. “Someone you know?”
    “What?” I reached for my water. “Oh, over there? Just a person I work with. Well, used to work with. He’s given notice and . . . yeah.”
    “Really.” Ethan looked in Chris’s direction and I concentrated on the ice-cold liquid going down my throat as I drained my glass. “He’s heading over here.”
    I choked on the water and covered my mouth.
    “Gina. Fancy meeting you here.” Chris’s spry tone sent unwanted vibrations through me. He fixed an intent stare on