I was sitting comfortably on a hotel sofa on a spring afternoon, coffee finished, waiting for a few colleagues to arrive.

That’s when I saw her walk in.

She was wearing a light floral dress that seemed perfectly designed for the weather, carrying herself with the kind of effortless elegance that immediately changes the temperature of a room.

Our eyes never met.

They didn’t need to.

My Calabrian primal instinct completed its analysis in about three seconds.

Beautiful woman. Dangerous smile. Serious distraction.

The reception staff noticed her too.

In fact, they suddenly became extremely motivated employees.

Everyone wanted to help her.

Everyone wanted to carry her luggage.

Everyone wanted to be useful.

When she asked if someone could bring her bags to her suite, I made a decision that had absolutely nothing to do with professionalism.

I took off my jacket.

Wrinkled my shirt.

Adjusted my face to look slightly underpaid.

And in less than a minute, I became the hotel’s newest porter.

A quick look at the reception staff was enough to keep them quiet.

They wanted to see how far I would go.

Honestly?

So did I.

We took the elevator to the fifth floor.

I had the suite key in my hand.

I opened the door and brought her luggage inside.

She reached into her purse to give me a tip.

I smiled.

“Would you like to laugh about something that happened yesterday with a client?”

She looked confused.

Then curious.

“Absolutely.”

She closed the door.

Sat on the bed.

I remained standing.

I started with a joke.

Then another.

Then a story.

We talked for two hours without noticing time passing.

She was extremely intelligent.

And very funny.

Eventually she looked at me and asked:

“How long have you worked at this hotel?”

“About a month.”

She smiled.

“And what did you do before?”

“Well…”

I said.

“I was a thief.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“But not an ordinary thief.”

“What did you steal?”

“The hearts of women.”

She started laughing immediately.

“I made them fall in love, always told them the truth, loved them properly… and then disappeared.”

Now she was fully invested.

“Can we stop pretending and speak honestly?”

“Of course.”

I looked at her and said:

“The truth is simple. You and I are supposed to get engaged first and married later.”

She exploded in laughter.

“Well,” I continued, “your parents probably seem traditional, so a ten-year engagement sounds reasonable.”

She was crying from laughter at this point.

“But chemistry can be tested immediately. We should at least verify your ability to make me happy.”

Another uncontrollable laugh.

“I’ll also need enough time to divorce my wife and eventually marry off my daughter with your financial contribution.”

She looked at me and asked:

“Nando… why exactly should I be the one making you happy and not the other way around?”

I smiled.

“Because Calabria recently approved a protocol allowing a maximum sexual encounter of one hour and three minutes.”

She couldn’t breathe from laughing.

“Why one hour and three minutes?”

“One hour belongs to the woman.”

I paused.

“The three minutes are for the man.”

At that point she completely surrendered to laughter.

Then I stood up.

“I should go now.”

She looked disappointed.

“My romantic nature and my shyness prevent me from making requests,” I said.

“But if you’d like to request something, I’m available.”

More laughter.

A few days later, I took her to dinner.

We became friends.

Shortly after, I visited her home.

She introduced me to her husband.

Life has a strange sense of humor.

The only thing she kept telling me was:

“Where were you three years earlier?”

“Why didn’t we meet before?”

I smiled and gave her the only honest answer I had.

“Because by then…”

“I had stopped being a thief.”

Nando