Italian Coffee House [BWWM]

- C h a p t e r 13 -

Here were my friends serving me. I always thought waitressing was a respectable job, at least better than what true desperation could behold. However, I have been a waitress long enough to know that most who dined here didn't share my views. They didn't respect or give us as much credit as we deserved. Sitting in this chair, made me feel like one of them, only it felt like a betrayal of some sort.

As much as I tried to ignore and avoid their heavy stares, I couldn't be rid of the feeling that they were burning figurative holes into my back. 

It was harder to avoid Stephen's though. He was, after all, the one I was in love with though he might only see me as a sister. However, his seemed something more tonight. For a long time and as long as I could remember, I've always wanted him to look at me the way he did tonight. To really see me, but it was too late. The tides were turning, things weren't the same anymore, none of the conditions that had been right before would hold any longer. 

I was engaged. Moreover to a man, I couldn't imagine liked to share anything, let alone his women. Though in his defence, he had offered me and my papa a permanent place in his home. I guess that could count. Even so, I wouldn't let anything jeopardise this. Especially with so much counting on it.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I, Tionnè, will be your waitress for tonight. Please don't hesitate to ask for anything you want. I'm here to ensure you have an exceptional time here at Niccolò's Chocolate House." Tionnè announced, wearing a genuine smile. At least, the best she could muster given the situation. 

I glanced around the round table to find myself almost in a bundle of nerves, even as the hour braved on and had just barely begun.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I will be your chef for the night. If you have any personal requests, please feel free to tell me and I will see to it you get what you desire." Stephen announced, at the sound of his voice, a wave of guilt washed over me.

Though he left the room, the guilt did little to subside. I felt as though I was being held captive under the most demanding gaze to settled on me and by no surprise, it belonged to none other than Niccolò, my fiancè. 

Desire everpresent in his eyes as he placed his calloused hand on my thigh. It was so unexpected that I near started at the action. My heart hammered within my chest. I avoided his gaze to see Krysta, Liona and Lorenzo in a spat. They weren't paying us any mind at the moment. 

Why did he have to be so sickeningly gorgeous? His thick wave of Italian hair, his stellar flecks, his pronounced jawline and the everpresent fact that there lacked an ounce of fat on him? God forgive me!

"Ada," He spoke low so that only I could hear. His voice was rich with his heritage and something else I couldn't place. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I-I'm fine," I tried to match his confidence although it was no shocker that I failed miserably.

"Good," he whispered in my ear as his hand inched further up my thigh.

I cleared my throat, causing the others to look in our direction. Krysta smiled as she glanced at us, winking at me.

"Liona, how has your vacation treated you?" Niccolò asked as though it was nothing out of the ordinary, what he was currently doing to me. His hand climbed another inch, sending me chills.

"Well, my mother and father thought it best if a tutor come along on vacation. They should've known better. He was out of there by the first hour. Who brings work on vacation, anyway?" Liona chuckled as Tionnè filled her glass with sparkling non-alcoholic wine. "Thank you."

Krysta smiled, obviously finding humour in her friend's confession. Was it odd for a girl Liona's age to be so bold and confident? Surely, it was. When I was that age all I could do was be obedient, take my education as serious as a heat stroke and pray to God that I was able to find a job that paid well to take care of papa. There was no room for rebellion.