Raison D'être

A New Dawn

Waking up at dawn, her eyes can adjust to the soft blue sky fairly easily. After making her bed and getting ready for the day, she quickly strides towards the kitchen. Boiling water, she looks over at Laura's muffin recipe mentally scolding herself for not preparing the night before. Trying to be as quiet as possible not to wake up the rest of the house, despite its grand size, she takes out all the ingredients putting it all together. While the muffins bake, she pours Lorenzo a cup of tea tempted to have some herself. The warmth the cup provides is enough to make her sleepy. Before the timer goes off, she quickly stops it and sets out the muffins to cool. She spends the next half hour cleaning up after herself before finally settling down on the island table, head in her hand closing her eyes hoping to get a little more sleep.

Her attempt fails when she hears footsteps walking down the stairs, "good morning Anastasia." Lorenzo is dressed in a 3 piece black suit, that makes his tanned olive skin look even better. Glancing up, she can see his fixed hair and the small dimple on his right cheek as he gives her a small smile.

"Good morning Mr.- I mean Lorenzo," mentally palming herself at messing up.

He chuckles, "do I really look that old?"

"I'm sorry it's just I've seen the men that come here call you Mr. Amoretto or boss and I don't usually call my boss by their first name," as she plays with her hands, a habit she acquired when speaking to anyone really. Spending most of her time alone, and the small interactions at the Diner was not enough to build her social skills.

"I see, well please get comfortable using Lorenzo, and don't think of me so much as your boss," he says sipping his tea.

"Well, what would you like me to think of you as?"

"I'd like you to think of me as a- ah merda," he waves his hand rapidly after touching the hot muffin. [shit]

Scolding herself for the millionth time in the early hours of the day, "I'm so so sorry. I forgot to tell you. They were in the process of cooling. It completely slipped my mind." Quickly taking his hand, seeing it red she runs over to the sink keeping the rag under cool water.

"It's alright, I was stupid for not seeing the steam," and surprising her, he doesn't sound mad.

Thinking to herself, I'm nothing but trouble, she grabs his hand and gently dabs the redness in all concentration. He watches her take care of him, an act foreign to him. He has always taken care of himself, but now here is this woman that is taking care of him. Although it might seem like such a small gesture, he can't help but revere this small moment. He looks at her, taking in her scrunched brows and concentrated eyes before commenting, "I've never had my muffins fresh." His comment throws her out of her concentration as she looks up at him. His eyes stare intently at hers, knowing he is looking past the brown in her eyes. After staring right back for a little too long, she breaks eye contact first and shakes her head smiling, but mostly to hide the blush on her face.

"I always like something a little warm in the morning, because I get cold easily especially in the morning. I thought you'd like that too." After seeing the redness lighten up a bit, she steps away giving them some space, "all alright, all done. Again, I'm sorry about that."

"Thank you," and it's genuine. Not one you say because you have to or to fill the space, but a raw thank you as if this small act meant the world to him. Nodding her head, another moment of silence takes place. It's not awkward but one in which they find themselves both in thought. As they both gaze, their thoughts are in sync as they both wonder what they are thinking. She watches as he takes the muffin and blows on it before taking a bite. As the breaded treat comes in contact with his taste buds, his eyebrows raise "it's delicious. Want to try?" He holds out his muffin with his bite.

She laughs at the gesture and is quick to dismiss his offer, "it's yours."

"I insist, you must try your talents."

"If you insist," turning the muffin to the uneaten side and taking a bite of the muffin still in his hand, she tastes the sweet vanilla.  He watches as she eats, her plump lips on the muffin before covering her mouth. His lips part as his mouth dries at the sight. While he was busy thinking sensual thoughts of her, she was busy figuring out what her muffin was missing, "not bad. Could do with a little less vanilla but it's not bad."

Her voice snaps him out of his unseemly thoughts, as he is quick to respond "not bad, these are better than Laura's but don't tell her I said that," winking.

"Don't say such a thing! You're just flattering me, besides it was Laura's recipe anyway, I just added the chocolate chips."

"Well, the execution of this fine work was excellent." He gives her his signature smirk and she can't help but laugh. The nice moment is interrupted when his phone buzzes. "Brents here. After you," he motions for her to go ahead and up to the car, opening the car door for her. Thanking him she gives him an assured smile.

"Sir, shall I go over to the Diner since her place is on the way?"

"That's fine Brent thank you."

Brent closes the divider, "if it's too much trouble or you'll be late for work I could go after you?"

"No Anastasia, it's on the way, please don't worry. Besides, I'm the boss. I can go to work whenever I want," his reassurance is enough for her. For the rest of the ride, she closes her eyes hoping to get a little more sleep. As her senses fade, she is quick to fall asleep. While she is asleep, Lorenzo gets a notification from Niccolò saying he'll be back from his assignment in 48 hours. Niccolò's assignment being a hit on someone from the Spanish mafia for trading drugs that were in previous possession of the Russians. 

The Italians and Russians are as powerful as they are because they control each part of their sector, but they have kept the peace for so long due to them wanting nothing to do with each other.  The mutual, but unsaid agreement of staying out of each other's way while coexisting peacefully with each other. However, the Petrov's have more money than the Amoretto's due to the profits off of their sex trafficking and child kidnapping. They take mothers and sell them off while the children are raised in the Russian household. Either trained and brainwashed as assassins or serve as slaves before being sold into the same auction their mothers were once sold.

As the car comes to a stop and pulls up on the curb Lorenzo caresses her cheek softly, before nudging her awake. She stirs before her eyes flutter open. In a gentle low tone, Lorenzo notifies, "it's your stop, bellissima." [beautiful]

Thank you for reading! - author :)

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Photo credit:@smilesneverlie (Instagram)