February 14th
Anta
I stood in the park before the Eiffel Tower, the Seine river behind me. Morning of our second day in Paris. Smiling, I waited for Lorenzo. Perhaps this date was a romantic date at the Eiffel Tower.
Just as I smoothed my long brown hair back from the dark blue dress I wore, I heard a huge rumbling noise.
No, it was not my empty stomach rumbling.
"Hop on," Lorenzo smirked, tossing me a helmet.
He was on a black motorbike, which he managed to whip out in five minutes.
Holding onto him tightly, we sped off, the motorbike rumbling under me. The chilly wind blew onto my face, and I smiled, burying my head into the crook of his neck as he drove the bike. Truthfully, I'd always driven motorbikes myself, never with anyone else. I felt safe hugging him, smiling happily.
The sun was bright today, and we rushed passed crowds of chattering people, busy shops, diners, Paris streets, and Lorenzo steered us into a small alley. The alley had brick-wall shops and flowers hanging from the window, the small alley narrow and dim but alive and colorful.
He took my hand, leading me to a small yellow shop, at the end of the alley. It had bright geraniums and sunflowers up front, decorating the entrance way. The shop itself smelled like flower oils, with small tables and white sofas scattered around. Beautiful.
"This...this is so nice," I breathed out in awe, sitting down across from Lorenzo, who had grabbed two menus from the waiter at the counter.
He grinned, shoving me a menu. I ordered a cranberry pie, and a fresh lemonade while he had two croissants.
"Do you like it, sweetheart?" he tilted his head, his brown eyes flickering into mine. Gosh dang it, those eyes.
"Mhm," I nodded, flustering a little. I smiled, looking around the old, but neat and colorful place. The ceilings had small canvases of paintings as well, with ceramics on the counters and tall vases of unique-looking flowers.
As I cut into my pie with a fork, a man wearing a white apron and ragged pants came from the kitchen door, placing his apron on the counter. He had a trimmed beard with tanned skin and prominent dark features, dark hair and all.
"Giraspi!" the man exclaimed, embracing Lorenzo and greeting him warmly.
"Ah," he turned to me, "you brought another girl. New girlfriend?"
My heart stopped.
Another girl?
Lorenzo looked stunned for a moment, standing beside the man, who I presumed was the owner of this shop. The man talked to Lorenzo for some more, chatting politely then headed into the kitchen once more.
I no longer felt like eating.
I ate a few more bites of the pie in silence, the sweet pastry now chalk in my mouth.
"Sweetheart I-"
"I think I'm all done," I cleared my throat, sipping on the last drops of lemonade, "I'll pay and we can leave."
"No, I'll pay-"
I slammed the dollar bills onto the counter, leaving a twenty-dollar bill, and headed out the shop. His bike was parked on the other end of the narrow alley.
I hurried towards it, swallowing the lump in my throat.
"Anta-" he caught on to me, huffing as he ran past me and stood firmly in front of me.
YOU ARE READING
A Favor To Fulfill (MAFIA MYSTERY ROMANCE)
RomanceHe was the Don of the Corleone Mafia. She was a small town bakery owner. One night, she asked him for a favor that changed his life, forever. What was the favor? Does it spark something more? Will it cause wars between the mafias? What's the real r...
