AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sorry, Mr. Rossi. He’s not my boyfriend and he was just leaving. He was just asking directions.” She glared up at Paolo and stalked off to the kitchen.
Paolo was angry that Mr. Rossi had so rudely interrupted his conversation. He called to the man. “Mr. Rossi, could I have a word, please.”
Mr. Rossi stepped out from behind the counter and confronted Paolo. He was a big man; not just fat, but tall and broad and heavily muscled. Actually the only fat was his oversized belly. He looked to be in his mid-fifties and a
ble to kick Paolo’s ass in a fight.
“What do you want? A table? You want to order something to eat? Because I can help you with that, otherwise, buy a map and leave my establishment immediately. You’re upsetting the customers, sir.”
Chapter 6
Showoff
Physically, Paolo was no match for Mr. Rossi; but there were many ways to get what one wanted without resorting to physical violence.
Smiling, hoping to break the tension and ease the spotlight off himself, Paolo said, “Mr. Rossi, what would one have to do to have a conversation with your lovely waitress, Sofia?”
Mr. Rossi eyed him from head to toe and back up. A greasy grin appeared on his large, oval face. “Mister, you could order one of everything on the menu and then you could talk to her as long as you like.”
“Done. I want one of everything on the menu, then, Mr. Rossi. Where would you like me to sit and wait for this food?”
Gasps from the crowded diner ensued. Patrons looked on now with great interest. Mr. Rossi’s face flushed a deep red and the anger in his eyes was obvious to all. Paolo smiled, or rather, smirked at the older man. He’d won and he knew it.
“You don’t have the money for that, young man.” Mr. Rossi huffed, slapped the towel over his shoulder, and started walking away.
“Oh, but I have more money than that, Mr. Rossi. Here. Would you like a handsome tip for the cook and the waitress included or should I make their checks out to them personally?”
“Hah! I don’t take checks, Mister. I think you best leave before this takes an ugly turn.” Mr. Rossi had stopped and was glaring at Paolo.
“That works, too, Mr. Rossi. I have cash, too. Now, you made an offer in front of all these good patrons and I have accepted that offer; you’re not really going to back out of it now, are you? What would they all think of you if you did such a thing?” Paolo turned to the first empty booth he could see and took a seat. “One of everything on the menu, if you please. I can pay now or after you deliver, if you don’t trust me.” He thumbed through his wallet.
Mr. Rossi scanned the faces of his patrons and his expression softened. The game was up; he had to make good on his word, now.
“Fine, but the bill will have a gratuity charge as with all spontaneous large orders. It will take away time from my other customers who would be coming in for the next two hours.” He turned to the cooks and started barking out orders.
After a few minutes, Sofia came from the back with a tray of drinks—one of each offered on the menu. Paolo laughed as she set them all on his table.
“I would be saving all that energy to drink up some of these before I get your soups and salads out here, sir. There’s only so much room on each table and you only have one.” She turned and stomped back to the kitchen.
Upon her return, Paolo asked, “Why are you so angry with me? I just bought everything on the menu just to be able to talk to you.”
“No, you bought one of everything just to prove that you wouldn’t be outdone. To prove that you are rich and can throw your money around on any frivolous thing that crosses your mind.” She stomped off and returned with another tray of salads.
“Are you seriously going to bring me one of everything on the menu, Sofia?” He reached for her arm, but she pulled it back in time to avoid his touch.
“That is what you ordered, isn’t it?” Her glower was so hot he could’ve lit a cigarette from it.
“Only to get to talk to you for a minute without that rude Mr. Rossi interrupting us again.”
“He didn’t interrupt us. As I recall it, I was completely finished talking to you!” Her voice was gaining volume and some of the patrons giggled under their breath.
“I wasn’t finished. Do you have any idea how I struggled with the decision to come talk to you face to face? Do you even care?” Paolo’s own anger was starting to seep out into his voice.
“Not particularly. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me? Do you even care?” She snatched up an empty glass and walked away.
Embarrassing for her? How could it be? Would this not be some poor waitress’ idea of romantic? He thought surely so. She was playing hard to get and he was running out of time and patience in this crowded little hole-in-the-wall eatery.
Another tray of salads appeared, Sofia was not delivering them though; it was another woman who kept smiling and making eyes at Paolo as she set the salads on the overcrowded table carefully.
