<div style="text-align: justify;">"Scarlett", the man repeated. His mind started working. He had known someone with this name in the past. The reserved room was slightly darker than the rest of the restaurant, but the man hadn't really looked at the waitress. He rarely did look at their faces. So, now he did for the first time.<br/><br/>"Scarlett Atkins". It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He was sure now that he did know her. He hadn't even considered the possibility of the waitress being someone he had met before, but now, he knew exactly who she was.<br/><br/>They had met in school. He was a poor student and a bully, but for some reason, they had become friends, and he remembered walking her home every now and then, and even working behind the scenes to make sure that Scarlett would not be bothered by guys like him. Of course, that 'work' was done on the many times he had been given detention, and he had never told Scarlett about it. He didn't want her to think she owed him anything. Now, though... Well, she had grown into a very beautiful woman, and it wouldn't be bad if she felt she had a debt with him.<br/><br/>He had lost contact with her, and other people he had gone to school with, though, as he started on his new "job". How long had it been? Years, sure, but how many, he wasn't sure of.<br/><br/>"I don't think you remember me", he carried on, after his pause to think. "I'm Lorenzo Martinelli, I used to go by Enzo back at school", he completed, finally stopping to allow Scarlett to say something.</div>