Three

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The annoying sound of my alarm woke me up at 5 A.M. My phone seemed to have fallen under my bed during the night, so I struggled trying to reach it. After what felt like an hour trying to get to the damn phone, I turned off the alarm and laid back down. 

My hands rubbed my face as I groaned. I shouldn't have gone to sleep that late knowing that I had to get up this early. It was still dark outside, which was the worst part because it made me want to go back to sleep.

But I had to get up. I had to get down to di Lorenzo's to start cleaning up the kitchen. I did this every morning. I got up around 5 A.M., got to the restaurant at 6 A.M., cleaned the kitchen and set up the tables, and then I was done by 10 A.M. Just in time for them to open for lunch at 11 A.M. None of the employees showed up until 10 in the morning, so I had my own set of keys to open up the place.

I got out of bed and walked over to the bathroom. I splashed my face with some water to wake myself up before I brushed my teeth. Since all I did was the dirty work, I wore sweats to the restaurant. My black sweatpants were old and torn in some places, but they still fit and did their job. I pulled a long sleeved white shirt over my head and slipped on a beat up pair of black converse. Opening the top drawer of my bedside table, I grabbed one of the bandanas to use as a headband.

As I walked out to the kitchen, I saw Xander sleeping on the couch. I hadn't seen him when I got back from my date with Summer, so I assumed he went out to a bar. Why he decided to sleep on the couch rather than the bed is something I won't find out until later. I didn't bother to wake him because he was probably hungover from his night out. If that were me, I wouldn't want him to bother me. 

I grabbed a banana and a water bottle before walking out of the apartment and down to the restaurant. It was about a thirty-five minute walk from my building at a casual pace. I didn't need to rush there anyways. I could've easily taken the subway, but I enjoy the walks in the mornings. The restaurant was on Eighth Ave. near Madison Square Garden. I took my time eating my breakfast and strolling down the sidewalk. Even at this early of an hour, the streets were still filled with taxi cabs and drunk people trying to make it back to their apartments.

It was amusing to see some people out on the streets walking around completely lost. Some women were clad in tight and revealing dresses as they held their heels in their hands. Their hair was a mess and the makeup on their faces were smeared. It was almost terrifying if you bumped into one of them and came face to face with them. It would definitely get you on high alert of where you were walking.

After my walk, I made it to di Lorenzo's and unlocked the door. It was a nice Italian restaurant that was open for lunch and dinner. It wasn't super fancy or five-star, but it was much nicer than an Olive Garden. The restaurant itself was fairly small, but it was always packed with people. The worst time to come in was either during lunch from 12:30 - 2:00 P.M. or at dinner from 7:00 - 10:00 P.M. That's when you needed to make sure you had a reservation because of how crowded it was.

The food was really good from what I had tasted. I had never actually came into the restaurant to sit down and eat, but sometimes I was here during dinner service and Isabella and I would taste-test things for the chefs. 

Isabella's family owned the place. She was 100 percent Italian, so her father was your typical Italian old man. He was insanely loud, used his hands to talk more than his voice, was incredibly shameless, and bald yet very hairy on his body. His wife was fully Italian, but unlike Vincent who moved here from Italy, she was born and raised in New York.

Vincent and Filomena ran the restaurant together with their four children, Isabella being one of them. Isabella was the baby of the family. She was nineteen, so she was only a year younger than me. Her skin was a tanned olive color, her hair was jet black and fell just under her breasts, she had bright hazel eyes, and her body was curved to perfection. In the restaurant, she worked as a hostess because she didn't want to do actual work.

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