One Enchanted Evening

I don’t mind traveling alone, but if a tall dark, handsome man wants to join me…who am I to say no?

What are the chances that my corporate pilot would find me again in Piazza San Marco in Venice, Italy?  Talk about déjà vu all over again.

Sparks flew under the Venetian sky and suddenly the annoying pushcart peddlers and salesmen throwing glowing orbs in the sky disappeared.  No one else existed. It was just me and Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome.  A serendipitous moment.

It was as though I was watching a Fellini film:  The camera pans the interior of the piazza and then zooms in for a close-up of the lovers as music washes over them. The world seems to be moving in slow motion.

Ahhh…if only life could imitate the cinema.  We could cut or edit the ugly parts and zoom in, seeing their unbridled emotion through a rose-colored camera lens.  Their intimate rendezvous then fades out slowly.       

So many unspoken words needed to be said, but that would have to wait.  As we listened to the jazz orchestra playing Duke Ellington’s Prelude to a Kiss, he pulled me close and drew his lips near mine.  Instinctively I knew that we were going to improvise our own music later that night.

Half way through a bottle of chilled champagne, my tall dark handsome man’s cell phone rang.  It was his boss.  His child was gravely ill and needed to be flown back to the US immediately.

Fate intervened.  He embraced me in the Piazza where he had stolen my heart so many years ago when I was on my honeymoon, alone.  Our serendipitous meeting was bitter sweet. But I knew in my heart, I’d see him again.  Or so I hoped.