BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 

My blaring alarm woke me from my otherwise peaceful slumber. I groaned like a cranky toddler being woken from her nap and angrily slammed down on the alarm, shutting it off. I flopped over onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, lazily blinking my eyes. I rubbed my eyes to try and wake them up and got out of bed and onto my feet. 

I opened the curtain to my window and breathed in the sweet smell of San Francisco in the morning. From my window, I could see the fog settling in around the shadow of the Golden Gate Bridge. It wasn't the quietest morning with the occasional beeping and honking from the cars below and customers coming into the shop with the little bell ringing from the door. Oh, did I mention I live above a coffee shop in Little Italy? It's called Buoni Fiori, which means good flowers. My dad was in charge of naming it, and he was always a bit of a romantic. He named it for my mom, who loved flowers. Running a coffee shop has its perks, like the smell of coffee wafting up to your room in the morning and all the pastries you could eat (always made fresh by my dad!)

I started my morning routine, the usual brushing of the teeth, showering, getting dressed, doing makeup, you know the gist. I packed my usual black, leather purse with the essentials needed for a morning venture out into the city and started downstairs. I looked at all the happy customers sitting around the tables, sipping coffee and eating pastries. I could spot the tourists, who were busy looking at guide maps and probably ordered way too many pastries to eat and would come back to order more later. There was also the regulars, who always came in for the cup of coffee and would occasionally spring for a croissant. There was also the schoolkids who would come in groups to get a sweet before it was time for school.

And, as usual, there was my dad happily serving everybody in his usual work clothes - a black t-shirt, black and white pinstripe pants, and a white apron covered in a bit of chocolate from the pastries. "Buongiorno, mia figlia!" Good morning, my daughter! He came over and kissed me with a loud smack right on the forehead. "Buongiorno, papà!" I said back. I helped myself to the chocolate bombolino sitting on a baking tray. My dad saw me and sighed. "Daniela, dai! (come on!) How am I supposed to feed the customers?" I smiled, mouth full of yummy pastry and nutella, and waved my hand. "Put it on my tab!" My father made a motion with his towel, but went back to wiping down the counters. "Are you going on a walk?" 

I nodded, moving towards the door. "My daily morning walk." We had only moved to San Francisco a month ago, and I was still exploring the area. Plus, it was always nice to walk through Little Italy and be greeted by the other Italian store-owners. I waved ciao to my dad and walked out the door. 

The cold, morning air hit me hard, but it was a refreshing cold. I wrapped my scarf tightly around my neck to keep warm and adjusted my coat to cover me more. I started down the street, looking around as I walked. The sidewalk was lined with pastry shop after coffee shop after Italian clothing store. An older woman in her 50's with short, curly black hair going gray at the temples smiled at me. She was holding a tray full of delicious looking pastries. "Ciao, Daniela! On your morning walk?" I smiled. "I sure am. Ciao, Signora Vezzo!" She gave me a wave before walking back inside, giving the tray of pastries to some of her customers.  

I continued walking, some more Italian shop-owners and occasionally their children stopping to say ciao to me. It was like a welcoming ceremony every morning, despite me having been there for a while now. But I didn't mind, I looked forward to it. 

I left the Little Italy district and walked toward the pier, where I would sit down and admire the ocean. It was a perfect morning routine I had established, and no one was able to disturb it. That is, until this morning. 

As I walked, sipping my coffee, I must not have been paying attention to where I was walking and felt myself collide with something, or namely someone. My coffee spilled all over my shirt and I started to lose my balance when someone caught me by the waist and steadied me. "Signorina! Stai bene?" Miss? Are you okay? A worried voice rang out. I looked up and saw the most handsome man I had ever seen in my life. He had curly, long-ish chocolate brown hair, dazzling hazel eyes with specks of gold in them, full and luscious lips, and a tiny little mole right above his upper lip. He was wearing a look of concern, along with a very stylish black peacoat with black jeans and a crisp, white shirt. We were twinning with wearing warm scarves, except his was black and mine was white and now brown with coffee stains. 

I continued to stare at him like a dopey idiot and realized that his arm was still around my waist and we were suspended in an awkward position of falling and holding. I steadied myself and stood up straight and just nodded my head. He gave me a sheepish look and rubbed his neck. "Oh, so sorry. I speak English too. Are you okay?" He re-worded the question. I smiled. "Yes, but don't worry, I understood you the first time. Mi chiamo Daniela." My name is Daniela. He smiled in surprise and delight. "Molto piacere (nice to meet you), Daniela! Mi chiamo Fabrizio, but everyone just calls me Febreze. Mostly because they like to make fun of me." I laugh. "Well, I'll call you Fabrizio." He smiled appreciatively at me. "Grazie tanto." Thanks a lot.

He gasped when he saw the damage done to my scarf. "Che disastro! (What a disaster!) I am so sorry, this is all my doing. Please, let me pay for your dry cleaning." He fished out his wallet and started to count the money to give to me. I waved my hands in the air and tried to get him to put away his wallet. "No, that's really not necessary! It's fine, I've had this scarf but over a decade anyways. It was time to replace it." I didn't want to make him feel bad. After all, it was just an accident. 

His face adopted a resilient and defiant look. "No, that is no good. If you will not accept money for dry-cleaning, I will just buy you a new scarf. There are a thousands boutiques in the area that we can walk to, if you would like to accompany me?" I shot him a look. He arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Please, I will not rest until you have a new scarf around your neck." I knew his type. Stubborn and pushy. But he was also handsome and seemed to be a nice guy so far, so why not go along with it? I smiled and sighed. "Alright, I guess I don't have a choice in the matter." I feigned a martyr attitude. 

We walked until we found a boutique. There was a stylish mannequin in the window wearing a chic outfit, accessorized with a very cute pink scarf. I guess Fabrizio could see the love in my eyes towards the scarf, because he took hold of my hand and marched us both in the shop. "Hello! We are interested in buying the scarf in the window." He said loudly to pretty much everyone in the store. I instinctively squeezed his hand from embarrassment, but he didn't budge. A surprised saleswoman come over to us with a polite and friendly smile on her face. "Of course! Excellent choice, would you like to try it on?" Fabrizio looked at me, and gestured towards the lady, as if asking me, do you want to?   I smiled and nodded, and the lady went over to the window to fetch the scarf off of the mannequin. "An excellent choice, really. It is our last scarf of this make in stock. You're lucky you got here in time!" 

She gave me the scarf and I wrapped it around my neck. It felt so warm and cozy around my neck. I smiled at Fabrizio. "This is a nice scarf." I said to him and he nodded, reaching over to feel it. "So soft! Che morbido! (How soft!)" He declared, rubbing it against his face. He was quite close to me, seeing as I was still wearing the scarf at the time. I playfully jerked it back, but the blush on my face told no lies. I took it off and checked the price tag. A bit up there, but it was doable. Barely. 

Fabrizio must have caught me staring at the tag with worry so, without warning, he plucked the scarf from my hands and strutted over to the sales counter. "We will take this, please." He handed it to the saleswoman, who had ran right over to the counter to make the sale. I ran up to him and tugged a bit on his jacket. "Are you sure? It wasn't cheap." I whispered so as not to let the salesgirl know I thought her products were overpriced. He spit out a raspberry. "Do not think anything of it. It is only polite after what I did to your old scarf." I looked down at the very noticeable coffee stain. 

I smiled up at him. "Grazie tanto. Thanks." He just gave me a wink, which shamelessly made my heart beat faster. Fabrizio paid and the saleslady wrapped the scarf up in a pretty pink bag from the boutique and gave it to us. "Thank you for coming! Have a nice day." She smiled cordially as we were sent on our way. 

We walked out of the store and were both hit with the crisp, cool air of San Fran once more. He handed me the bag and raised his eyebrows. "Put it on!" I took off my stained scarf and dropped it in the bag, then wrapped the new, pink one around my neck. The plushy, soft feeling on my neck was totally worth getting coffee spilled all over me. "Thank you, Fabrizio, seriously." I said, one hand still feeling the scarf. Fabrizio flashed a charming smile. "Prego."  You're welcome.

He glanced down at his feet, his face falling a bit. "So, I should let you get back to whatever it is you were doing. I'm sorry I interrupted your morning, but thanks for letting me tag along." My eyes widened in surprise. I hope I didn't make him feel like I didn't want to spend time with him. Actually, I was having a really good time with him (minus the whole spilled coffee, of course). As he was already turning to leave, I reached out in a panic and grabbed him by the jacket. "Wait!" I cried. 

He turned around, his brown hair falling ever so delicately in his chocolate eyes. "Sì?" He asked, turning around. I lost my grip on his jacket and folded my hands together. "You didn't ruin my morning. Actually, I had a great time with you. I just moved to San Francisco a little over a month ago and I kind of haven't really made any friends yet. But then you showed up and..." I chuckled nervously. "I may be getting a bit ahead of myself, but it seems like we could be good friends?" I worded it more like a question than a statement. 

Fabrizio's face immediately lightened up and his smile returned. "Oh, I am so glad! See, I don't have many friends either. I'm told I can be too much. Troppo!" He laughed loudly and then cleared his throat. "This was a good morning for me too. Sorry we had to meet with me spilling coffee on you." I smiled. "Non preoccuparti!" Don't worry about it! He smiled. "If you have time, we can continue our walk? There is a wonderful Italian coffee shop here, and it's new! It just opened on Little Italy district where the vacant space was." I smirked and raised an eyebrow, knowing which coffee shop he was talking about. He raised a finger to his chin in thought. "I think it's called-" 

"Buoni Fiori!" We both spoke at the same time. Fabrizio gasped. "How did you?" He stuttered. I laughed. "That's my father's shop! We run it together." Fabrizio's eyes widened and he nearly screamed. "I love that place! That wonderful man is your father?" I giggled. "Yep, that's him!" Fabrizio linked his arm with mine. "We must go and see him! I will buy all your stock." I laughed. "Papà will surely appreciate that." He looked at me and smiled. "Andiamo?"  Let's go? I nodded, flashing a smile in return. 

"Si, andiamo!"