Maid to the mafia: totally alluring

CHAPTER 6

DINNER WITH DENTE

I sat blinking at the old man sitting across the dining table from me. He smiled. I smiled back. He chuckled softly, then took a sip of his two-thousand-dollar bottle of red wine. I chuckled, taking a sip of my twenty-dollar orange juice. The food in front of me was spaghetti Bolognese. Such a normal dish, but why the heck did it cost two-hundred dollars?

I could make this dish at home. And even better, too. I gazed at my surroundings. Everything in this place resonated money. The beautiful floral table cloth must have been imported from Venice, the gold chandelier from France, and our food, did it contain gold, too?

I asked myself this; how on earth did I come to be in this high end Italian restaurant, dining on a dish that cost me an arm and a leg—no, my whole life—just to pay for one small meal?

“Jay, eat your food. You’re too skinny.” Oh, right. It’s because of this man here. Or should I say the multibillionaire mafia boss, Giovanni Dente? I turned to him, a scowl on my face.

“I am, ain’t I?” I shoved more food into my mouth, my impersonation of a starved pig, just to prove my point. The old man in front of me chuckled again, then dabbed his mouth with a napkin, before turning to Giovanni and asking politely,

“She’s a lovely one. Where did you pick her up?” I spilled my orange juice at the old man’s words. Some even dribbled down my chin. I quickly wiped my chin clean and gazed at him in disbelief. Picked up? What am I? Some call girl? But that question wasn’t the tipping point to my boiling mood. No, it was Giovanni’s answer that had my face turning from a pale pink rose to an angry red lobster.

“At the amusement park next door. I brought her along. Afraid she might hop away again,” Giovanni said casually, popping a piece of his neatly cut lasagna into his mouth. I gritted my teeth and wanted to shove that damned fork right down his throat, so he could choke to death. The ego of this man. He not only dragged me into the Ferris wheel compartment, freaking the soul out of me since I have acrophobia, but then he had to drag me to this fancy restaurant in my bunny suit, forcing me to have lunch here with this nice old man, and I still hadn’t a clue what his name was.

Maybe if Giovanni had been kind enough to introduce him to me instead of just dropping me off in my seat and proceeding to order the food for me, without even asking my opinion, then I would’ve stopped calling the nice old man, old man . But what choice did I have? I was only a poor student who’d been dragged here against my will. I really didn’t mind dining with the old man, though, even when he was on another level altogether.

The concept of wealth poured out of his ears, mouth and nose. His clothes, hands, and nails were carefully looked after and trimmed. His hair was grey, parted at the side in the latest style. I knew, since I kept up to date with the fashion trends. This man was rich and kind. That much I also knew, since his eyes were really smiling at me, not just his mouth. He seemed kind of warm, and I couldn’t help responding back with my bright grin.

But what got me most annoyed about this whole situation was that I didn’t get to tell Crispin where I was, or more like, Giovanni didn’t give me the chance to pass on this message to him. Thinking of Crispin made me worried. He must be raving mad by now, phoning the cops, or worse yet, rounding up the whole circus squad, as he liked to call it, with sharp combat knives and swords, just to find me.

Oh, Giovanni, you mafia boss. You’re really causing me distress.
“Stop thinking. Start chewing,” Giovanni prompted me to eat more when I was lost in my thought. I turned my heated gaze at him.

“Can’t you see I’m stuffing my face like a pig here,” I pronounced, shoving more food into my mouth.

“You’re not fat enough. You’re just skin and bones. How are you to entertain me at night if you’re that skinny? Eat, Jay. You’ll need the energy.” I slammed my fork down and gave him my opinion.