Emily and Davide chat about the fact he noticed her on the train that morning, before he stepped in to help fix her botched travel plans.
“You could see which article I was reading?”
“You’d read it, too?”
“Sì, sì. Many times, in fact.”
“Imagine that… I would never have guessed something like that would catch your attention.” A wave of relief washed over her, now that the mystery of his “attraction” was solved. “You know, I thought the article was very interesting, but I’m not sure I completely understood it. My Italian isn’t perfect and there were some rather abstract concepts and complex language in it…” She trailed off, a realization dawning. “Oh, lord… ‘Davide Magnani’.” She put her hand to her forehead, embarrassed. “You wrote it, didn’t you? That’s why your name rang a little bell in the deep, dark recesses of my mind.”
“Sì, I did. It’s just that other thing I do when I’m not teaching or speaking to educational conferences in Padova…”
“Amazing… I mean, what are the odds of reading an article and having the author sitting right across from you on the train like some average Joe? Or, in this case, like some average Giuseppe?”
He chuckled. “I would think that the odds are probably quite small.”