Magnolia

Chapter One

AN: Hi, and thanks for checking out my story. This is my very first Wattpad story, and I honestly don't really know where I'm going with it. This idea just popped in my head and wouldn't go away so here it is. Tell me what you think. Much love♥

P.S.: The woman in the picture is Troianna.

August

"Excuse me. Pardon me. I'm sorry."

Ahh. Squeezing through the morning crowd at Antonio's Café is always the best part of my day. Not really.

Hey, my name is Troianna, but call me Troi. I'm 21 years old, a full time college student, a single mother to the most adorable little boy you'll ever meet, and I'm currently running thirty minutes late to my shift.

"Hey Toni!" I say to my not so happy looking boss, walking behind the counter.

"You're late Troi." He says filling out orders.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"I got a business to run here. Last thing I need is for one of my waitresses to be running late. Especially during Monday morning rush."

"I'm sorry Toni." I say giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

"Sorry don't--"

"--Pay bills. I know, I know" I interrupt finishing his statement. I've heard it plenty of times before. He playfully scowls me, causing me to me to flash him a smile in return.

"Get to work child." He says gently pushing me towards the kitchen.

Antonio Pierroux, or as I, and everyone else likes to call him, Toni. Antonio is his government name, the only people that calls him that are either bill collectors or the law. Toni is basically a second father to me. He's been in my life since before I could even walk. He and my daddy were best friends since they were in diapers, they were like brothers, and when my daddy died, when I was seven, he and his wife took me in and raised me as their own daughter. He says he's always wanted a daughter; he's got five boys.

Toni is a 72 year-old Creole, that somehow managed to find his way up out of the bayous of Louisiana, and opened his own café in Uptown New Orleans. He's got a Creole accent as thick as homemade corn bread, and as he puts it 'You can take the Creole out the bayou, but you can't take the bayou out the Creole.' His skin is the color of toffee, he has dark brown eyes, a slim build, and he makes the best pecan pralines you'll ever eat.

"Full house this morning, huh?" I ask tying my apron around my waist.

"Yup." He says hand a box of beignets to a customer. "You got Chandra's tables today too."

"What!? Why?"

"'Cause she called in sick this morning."