Page 97 of Falling for Mr. October

I laugh silently for a second, before whispering, “He wants you to roll down the window. But he doesn’t work for the city in any capacity. He just does this every time there’s a big event in town. He considers it a public service, but he’s known for parking people in horrible spaces. One time Theo got his car towed because of him.”

Giovanni gives Mr. O’Connor an amused smile and rolls down the window. “Hello, sir.”

“Young man, welcome! What an interesting hat.”

Giovanni smiles and tips the brim of his “Smut Slut” hat in acknowledgment.

Mr. O’Connor nods to me. “Bianca. I hope you’ve come a long way with your commas.”

I smile and nod and pretend he hasn’t said this to me a hundred times over the past twenty years.

Turning back toward Giovanni, he says, “I hope this isn’t inappropriate, son, but I’m in a muscle-building group at the local gym, and we were wondering if you’d like to join us for our weekly workouts. We’re meeting on Thursday afternoon. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from us.”

For a second, Giovanni is mute. Perhaps because Mr. O’Connor is at least seventy and looks like he could be blown over by a stiff autumn wind.

The driver in the car behind us honks their horn impatiently, suggesting they must be out-of-towners, since no Apple Ridge native would be so rude to a known character like Mr. O’Connor.

Mr. Connor merely smiles and waves at them, as if they’d said hello and not implied fuck you.

“Of course,” Giovanni says. “I’d be delighted.” He turns and winks at me. “Bianca has been helping me get my workouts in, but I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know some more locals.”

Mr. O’Connor looks like he just got a winning lottery ticket.

I’m flustered and probably pink-cheeked.

“Oh, excellent!” my former teacher says. “Just excellent. The group is called Biceps Before Bingo, and we meet at four o’clock. You’re welcome to join us at bingo too. We played as a team last week and won big. We each got a free tire rotation. Only Earl has a car, but we felt the victory, nonetheless. It was a real rush. No question about it, there’s nothing that makes you feel young more than a workout before a high-stakes session of bingo.”

Giovanni’s grin stretches wider. “Yeah, all right. Thanks…”

Mr. O’Connor nods, then lifts a hand to cover his mouth. “My word. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Mr. O’Connor.”

Does he even have a first name?

Giovanni shakes his hand through the window, while the driver behind us lays on the horn again.

“Can you lead me to a space, my friend?” Giovanni asks.

Mr. O’Connor looks like someone just gave him a shot of adrenaline in the ass. His back stiffens, and he surveys the field before finding a too-small space that Giovanni nonetheless manages to maneuver the car into.

I wait until we’re parked, the windows rolled up, to turn in my seat and smile at him. “You’re really going to lead a session of Biceps Before Bingo?”

He scrunches up his face, smiling sheepishly. “I almost invited you, but I don’t know if you would have made it through an hour-long inquisition about your comma usage. Your patience only extends so far.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Giovanni,” I say. “I thought you were afraid of old people.”

He lets out a strangled laugh and taps the wheel with two fingers before releasing his belt. Turning, he unfastens my belt, his fingers lingering on my thigh. “I’m not afraid of them. But if one of those guys keels over, I reserve the right to change my mind. Anyway, it sounds kind of fun. Theo’s been letting me use his home gym, but I like working out around other guys.” His gaze turns heated. “Of course, I like working out with you better.”

I lean a little closer to him. “I should hope so. Maybe we’ll try it again if you can keep up with his crew.”

“They’re going to kick my ass at bingo.”

“It’s a game of chance, Giovanni.”

He lifts one hand in the air, his eyes glimmering. “See? I didn’t even know that.”

“I don’t believe you. No man who can play pinochle doesn’t know how to play bingo.”

His mouth lifts on one side, his eyes boring into me. “All right. You got me, Bianca. I took my nonna to bingo at least once a month back home. Maybe they’ll want to go, and one of them will fall madly in love with Mr. O’Connor. Hey, if that happens, everyone will stop talking about your attempt to burn down the nursing home.”