The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Dinner or Disaster

It was one of those days when I was up to my eyeballs in chores. Heck, my arms were about to fall off my shoulders. Not that I was complaining, but seriously, would it be so hard to just pick your clothes up off the floor for once, and put them in the laundry basket?

I was talking about Giovanni here. He was like a kid. No, worse than a kid. He was like a toddler with a shaker full of sand, and he’d spread that sand all over the floor, waiting for lovely me to pick up the grains one by one.

Speaking of the god, he’d disappeared after the bathroom scene yesterday. Not that I cared where he went. I was too busy trying to hand in my assignment on time. Thankfully, I did manage, avoiding a grade reduction.

Crispin, on the other hand, was on an angry spree, vomiting foul words because he was so damned mad on my behalf. I had to console him by taking him out to that Korean Restaurant we didn’t get to go to when Giovanni called me over yesterday.

It was about five o’clock when I completed all my chores. Time for cooking, I supposed. God almighty, Giovanni would go mental and start smacking my butt again if I didn’t get the meal done on time. He was so particular about everything being perfect and prompt.

Just as I was heading downstairs to start my meandering task of cooking, Giovanni casually strolled into the main lounge, hands in pockets, sporting a huge smirk on his face.

Maybe I’m not going to get in trouble after all.

“Our company made a profit. I’m treating you all to dinner tonight. Where do you want to go?”

Going out for dinner? Hooray! I don’t have to cook.

I was starting to get sick of doing all the cooking for these five grown men every day. They were like the five bears, eating everything and anything I put in front of them. I guessed a night out to diner would finish my day off nicely, since last night I’d barely slept a wink. Not to mention that weird dream.

“Hallelujah!” Bobby gushed, reflecting my mood. “Boss is taking us out for dinner. I’m so excited. Where should we go?”

“Wherever you want to go, boys,” Giovanni replied.

I was sitting on the sidelines, palm under chin, scoffing at myself. Boys… What am I? One of them, too?

“And girl,” I pointed out.

Giovanni ignored me. In fact, he wasn’t even looking in my direction.

Is he still mad about yesterday? Is this his way of punishing me?

“So, where will it be?” he asked, looking at Heath, Bobby, Jonny, and Finnie.

Again, I was excluded.

Fine by me. If he wanted to ruffle my feathers, then he didn’t know the real me.

“I suggest we go to a five-star restaurant.” I put in my suggestion. “Don’t you think so, Bobby? Finnie, what do you say?”

“I say-” Finnie began, but Bobby cut him short.

“No, let’s go to the burger joint down the road.”

“What?” I gasped in shock. “Boss said he’ll treat us to dinner. We should go somewhere classy and expensive.”

“But I don’t want to eat steak again.” Bobby moaned.

“Or gravy,” Finnie added.

“Yeah, in a five-star restaurant, everything’s swimming in gravy.” Jonny further crushed my balloon of hope.

“That’s because you always go for roast. Why don’t we try something else?” I persuaded them. Which didn’t help my predicament, as Bobby once again announced his suggestion.

“Yeah, like pizza. I crave pizza.”

“What the hell is taking your sissy asses so long?” Giovanni shouted from the doorway. “Are you coming or what? I’m feeling generous right now. Another three minutes, I’m not so sure.”

“Put a spin on it, guys. We can discuss this in the car,” Heath instructed us all.

We then ripped our butts off the seats and crushed ourselves into the limousine, driving to our unknown dinner destination.

Finnie and Jonny sat on the sides with Bobby between them. Oh, the luxury of a limousine. Heath was our driver. At the moment, we were on fire, each of us throwing out suggestions as to which restaurant would best suit our taste buds. We grumbled and grunted. Meanwhile, Giovanni listened contently on my side of the seat, not saying a word. But his body was seriously speaking to me in a different way. A very painful way.

Giovanni was literally wedging me against the car door. I squeaked like a mouse trapped in a cage. Actually, it was his cage of hard muscle. I was surrounded by him. His hard pectoral muscle pressing against my breast; his strong, lean arm resting on my leg. I couldn’t move an inch to save my life.

He enjoyed tormenting me. That had to be it. What with the smirk on his face and the constant pressure he applied on my arm. God, it’s sore. Now my legs were riddled with pins and needles. There was so much room in the limousine, but he had to squeeze his body against mine. I wished he would move just a tiny bit so I could breathe.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Is this his revenge for me seeing his willy banana?

But I didn’t give in to him that easily. No way was I letting him punish me. So, it was a silent battle between the two of us. I deliberately stretched my arms out in a yawning gesture, and POW! I slammed my elbow into his abs, eliciting an oof sound from his mouth.

Hah! I won. Giovanni backed off a bit. Even if it was only an inch.

With more room to breathe, I entered discussion mode. “I say we should go to a fancy restaurant.”

I had an ulterior motive. If I couldn’t get him to back off entirely, then I’d clean out his wallet. Let’s see who was the last one standing. Make me mad, and I’d make sure to not even leave a cent to his name tonight.

To my utter surprise, we did end up in a restaurant, except it was the shittiest restaurant ever. An all-you-can-eat for twenty dollars per head.

Bobby was all hyped up, acting like a baby in a toy store. “Fries, I want fries with chicken seasoning and a can of coke,” he raved and raved. “Then I’ll have an ice cream sundae for dessert.” He went off to make his order.

“I’ll have the Hawaiian pizza,” Finnie said and disappeared, too.

The other two went off to look for their food, which only left me with the boss. I didn’t want to be alone with Giovanni. My mind kept replaying the smooch-smooch scene from my dream or the slippery-sloppy scene from the bathroom. I quickly got up, too.

I was about to leave when a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed my arm, pulling me down again. I was so startled I jerked my arm back, already feeling that burning sensation where he’d touched, so similar to that sensation from last night.

“Ah, boss, mind where you’re touching.” I rubbed my arm to soothe the tingle.

“What, I can’t touch my product now? You’re my coffee machine, remember,” Giovanni barked.

“Yes, I remember. You don’t have to keep bringing up the subject. Sometimes you sound like a broken record,” I muttered, not looking him straight in the eye. Instead, I got up again, going to search for some food of my own. I was ravenous.

If only that task were as simple as it seemed. Once again, Giovanni clung to my arm, swinging me around to face him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I want for dinner?” He spoke so close to my ear I ended up staggering backward in surprise.

“No.”

“I thought you were my maid and I have full use of you.”

“Can’t you at least give me tonight off? I want to enjoy my time with the boys.”

I seriously didn’t want to pout, but this whole foreign feeling was really playing havoc with my mind.

Ah, must be that stupid dream. I have to let this feeling go. Wash it away with some holy mineral water or something. Now where do I find some?

“No. Get me some dinner,” he demanded.

“Fine,” I grumbled. Again, I was about to leave when he grabbed hold of my arm. “Now what?”

I flung his arm away, this time making sure to shove whatever feeling I was experiencing right down my throat so my stomach acid could destroy it into oblivion.

“Aren’t you’re going to ask what I like to eat?”

“No.”

“What kind of maid are you?” he scolded, a frown appearing on his forehead. And my God, my fingers wanted to caress that frown away. I had to control myself. So I put all my energy into answering his question.

“The type that is very tired because her boss refuses to give her a night off to enjoy some time with her friends.”

“Just get me some food and shut your mouth. You’re starting to annoy me with that blabbering of yours.”

You! I wanted to yell at him.

What did I see in this mafia guy anyway? Every single word that came out of his mouth was something negative about me. Damn, he irritated me to no end.

“Fine.” I huffed. “What do you want to eat?”

“Anything. Just bring it over.” He shooed me away.

I was only too happy to oblige. I jabbed Bobby in the stomach to grab his attention when I reached him. He was standing in front of the buffet, too busy stacking burger upon burger on his plate to notice me.

“Bobby!” I slapped him on the shoulder. “Know what the boss likes to eat?”

Bobby turned around and grinned at me. “Three words, Jenny. Spaghetti. Pasta. Lasagna.”

“They’re all Italian.” I summed up his answer.

“Of course. Boss is Italian. That’s why he likes it so much.”

Giovanni was pure Italian? No wonder he had that dark, tall, and handsome look. But he spoke without an accent. He must be a second or third-generation Italian, then.

That got me thinking again. All the time I’d lived at Cory mansion, Giovanni had never once mentioned his family.

Now where did that thought come from? I hadn’t the time to be sentimental.

“Okay, tell me what he doesn’t like.” I shifted my attention back to Bobby.

“One word. Hot food. Wait, maybe that was two words.” Bobby started citing those two words again. I didn’t give him a chance to repeat his mantra.

“You mean spicy food?” I clarified.

“Yeah, especially chili.”

“Anything else?”

“Seafood.” Bobby went to dish up more food on his plate.

I smirked, patting his shoulder. “You got it, my man. Go back to our seats. I’ll just make an order for the boss. Then I’ll be right back to join you.”

Ten minutes later, I presented Giovanni with his dinner. It was a hot and spicy dish with rice on the side. The dish was beautifully made. I was sure Giovanni would enjoy eating this delectable fare, especially since it contained fresh marine meat. On a side note, I even asked the waiter to add some extra chili.

Giovanni just stared at the dish as if death were in front of him. “What the fuck is this?”

I wasn’t fazed by his intimidating curse one bit.

“It’s your dinner,” I said, smiling slyly. “You said you’d eat anything, right? So eat it.”

Giovanni just glared at me. I knew what it meant. Do you want to die?

I glared at him, too. With my own meaning of course. If I die, you’re coming along, too.

With us in our staring competition, Giovanni finally gave up first. I cheered for myself. I somehow felt I’d gained the upper hand, a small victory in this intricate web I was in.

Giovanni took one bite, his eyes still glued to mine. And then he started coughing. His eyes became watery. I panicked. What’s wrong?

“Boss, what’s wrong?” Heath came to Giovanni’s side. He glared at me. I shriveled back like a turtle into my shell. “What did you give him to eat?”

“His dinner.”

“Don’t play. What did you give him to eat?”

“Food. A hot and spicy dish with seafood.”

Upon hearing of the word seafood, Bobby cried, Finnie looked like he was about to throw up, Jonny appeared scared, Heath’s face flamed red, and… holy crap, Giovanni just fainted.

I was in big trouble.