Beneath A Casanova {#1}

Part 4

Part 4

“Giacomo!” She heard a cry from an unfamiliar voice, and by instincts, she looked up from the counter, momentarily forgetting to be pissed off when she saw the man falling to his knees, then pitch into his friend’s quick arms.

Her anger was thrown away quickly when she saw his friend turn him around, shaking him but to no avail. The latte she had prepared just moments ago for him lay on the floor, spilt and soaking into his comfortable black pants. Though she was no medically trained, this was still the café under her shift, and she was still responsible to a certain extent to whatever that happened to her patrons while in the café.

Yeah, lousy excuse, Lexi. The ‘responsibility’ was a lousy excuse and her rational side knew it. She was worried as hell about him, and it wasn’t only because she’d given him latte a few seconds ago.

She hurried from behind the counter to where they were, only a few steps away. His friend was still shaking him, crying his name in a shocked voice. He was not replying, and his lips were pale as paper. Horror filled her heart. How can he look so pale now? Did he even have any blood at all?

She thought about the last few words she’d spoken to her. Despite her insults thrown his way, and her stupid behavior of throwing the water in his face, he had not even raised his voice much less demand to talk to her superior. All he had managed was light threat of a lawsuit that he didn’t even consider pursuing at words of Alvron.

“What’s wrong?” She asked quickly, falling to her knees at his other side while his friend held his upper body from the ground, propping him up with his knee.

“I don’t know! He just took a sip and fell like that!” His friend was obviously flustered, and it was not a good sign. She was afraid that something had happened to him too, but she knew the importance of keeping calm. Keeping level-headed in situations like this were the best bet for anything.

“Check his vital signs.” She advised, and she could practically see his unnamed friend swallow uncertainly.

“No… point. I have to call… Jack. Jack will know what to do. Jack made him drink that thing.” Dante’s obviously-French-friend was muttering to himself with shock.

“Jack?” She inquired softly. She had a vague idea that drinking ‘that thing’ meant her latte. Oh no, something must have been in the latte to make Dante react like that. Her mind raced, but she realized that there were no allergens in the latte. There had been absolutely no trace of nuts or seafood. Even if Dante was lactose intolerant, he wouldn’t have fainted like that, just extreme intestinal discomfort.

She looked up, surprised to see the quick hands of his friend already whipping out a phone. He pressed a few numbers and dialed, looking up and around with an extremely anxious face. At least Dante had a close friend who trusted him, she registered uselessly.

“I’ll call an ambulance. He looks to be in a bad shape.” The woman who had been typing on her laptop was the closest to the scene, and she offered, reaching for her cell phone on the table.

“Non!” The Frenchman threw his free hand towards her, stopping the woman from making a call. “Do not call the ambulance.”

“You have to. He is in a bad shape.” The woman insisted, already pressing the buttons.

“Non.” Dante’s friend insisted, and Lexi watched as his eyes narrowed dangerously on the woman. What the heck was wrong with him? His close friend seemed really pale and lacking blood, and he didn’t want professional help? She doubted this ‘Jack’ he was calling could do anything. What Dante seemed to need was a healthy dose of blood…