Dating A Mob Boss (The Dating Series Book 2)

by Love, B. T.

  “Ding ding ding!” she sang out. “And what do ya think happened when he was here?”

  “Let me see. Poker playing, cigar smoking, and scotch drinking? Oh, and eating.”

  “Yeah, but, he wanted you.”

  “Me? Hmm, well, I guess that’s not too surprising.”

  “Miss cocky, over here.”

  I slapped her lightly on the shoulder. “You know what I mean. The guy wanted to take me out to dinner so it’s not surprising that he was asking for me.”

  “Yeah, well, I told him ya didn’t work Sundays. Then he brought up the fact that ya were here last Sunday and I told him you were covering for someone. And then I told him ya work the morning shift through the week so he could come in during that time.”

  I brought my hands to my hips. “Jeez, thanks a lot. Now he knows my schedule.”

  “Are ya kiddin’ me? If he didn’t hear it from me he could find out from somebody else in a heartbeat if he wanted to.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I admitted.

  “Ya wanna help me prep some stuff for the cooks?”

  “Sure, as long as you don’t bug me about Trent the entire time.”

  “I can’t make ya any promises.”

  The restaurant itself didn’t open up to the public until eleven every morning, but I came in at eight every day to help with cleaning and food prep. It worked out nicely for me because I got off at a decent hour in the day. And if there ever were a time I had to work a night shift I had plenty of friends at the restaurant who would escort me home. I really loved working there.

  So far the day was passing quickly. I looked over at the large gaudy clock on the wall and was happy to see that it was already three, and that I would be getting off in less than two hours. The only downfall to that time of day was it was between lunch and dinner and was typically slow, and in turn boring. The only thing I could think of to do to look busy was wipe down tables that were already clean.

  I started at the front of the room and worked my way back, avoiding the few tables with customers enjoying their meals. After thinking I was done I remembered the table in the private room. I opened the door and went inside the low lit space, breathing in the faint smell of cigar smoke. Trent’s cigar.

  “Don’t you start thinking about him,” I scolded myself. But I couldn’t help it; in my eyes that would forever be Trent’s room.

  I wiped down the circular table, moving in-between the chairs and leaning across it to get to the very center. When I got to the chair Trent had looked so comfortable in I stopped and imagined him sitting in it, leaning back and relaxed with his large cigar positioned casually between his manly fingers.

  “Stop it,” I warned myself again. “He’s no good for you.”

  Oh, but he was good for me; good for my eyes, anyway. In all honesty I had never found myself so attracted to a man. Not only because of his position but he was just downright sexy. That smooth-shaven face; those hazel eyes. The build of his body . . .

  “Okay I gotta get out of here.” I left the room and symbolically left Trent so I could get back to my job.

  “You’ve got a customer,” Maria, the cute little fresh-out-of-high-school hostess, told me. “Table four.”

  “Thanks. Did you get their drink order yet?”

  “Yeah. I’ll bring it right over.”

  “Okay thanks.”

  Before heading over to table four I tallied up my other customer’s tab and brought it to them. After that I realized I had forgot a drink refill on another table, so I went back and took care of that as well.

  Vin’s overpowering aftershave filled my nostrils and I knew he was near. “Amber,” he bellowed. “What did I just talk to ya about?”

  I looked over at him. “What?”

  “I told ya when Trent Falco is here ya take care of him. I don’t mean after your other customers, I mean right away.”

  “What are you talking about, Vin? Trent’s not here.”

  “Yeah, he is. Table four.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. “Oh god. Okay, sorry Vin. No one told me he was here.”

  “Well ya better scoot.”

  “But what about this refill for my other table?”

  “I’ll handle it.”

  I turned around and went straight to Trent, rolling my eyes in the process. “Your refill is on its way,” I told my other table with a smile as I passed them.

  Table four was the most private table in the restaurant, besides the back room. It was back in the corner and had a wall of palm plants beside it to block the view of the other tables. It was our most requested table.

  I rounded the row of palms and was met with Trent’s gorgeous face. He was sitting his usual way, relaxed back in the chair. His ankle was crossed over his slack-covered knee and he was wearing some kind of shiny dress shoe that I’m sure was outrageously expensive.

  “Hello Mr. Falco,” I said in my most professional voice. “I’m very sorry for the wait. The hostess didn’t tell me it was you at this table.”

  He smiled warmly. “It’s no problem at all. I told her not to tell you it was me.”

  I nodded, ignoring his obvious underhanded request. “Well, what would you like today?”

  “To take you to dinner.”

  “What else would you like?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  Just then, Maria came over with a scotch on the rocks. “Here you go Mr. Falco,” she said, setting it down in front of him.

  “Make sure it’s Highland Park,” I told her.

  “It is. Everyone knows that’s Mr. Falco’s favorite brand.”

  “Everyone but Amber,” he replied, his smile widening.

  I cleared my throat as Maria left the table. “Drinking so early are we?”

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

  “Touché.”

  He lifted his glass and took a quick sip. “So, I really feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Apparently you have some kind of image of me in your head that I feel I need to correct.”

  “No, Mr. Falco. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Please, call me Trent.”

  “If that’s what you wish.”

  A low chuckle resonated within him. “Well, I’m a good guy; I can assure you that.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  “So why do you have such a problem with me then?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then why won’t you go to dinner with me?”

  “Because, I . . .”

  His eyebrows lifted as he waited. “You what?”

  “Mr. Falco!” Vin interrupted. “It’s so nice to see ya in here. And it ain’t even Sunday.”

  Trent stayed seated but offered him his hand. “Yeah I just thought I’d get myself a late lunch.”

  Vin eyed me nervously. “Is, uh, is Amber takin’ good care of ya?”

  I folded my arms with irritation. Couldn’t I just get a break already?

  Trent smiled. “No, actually, she isn’t. I’ve been trying to convince her to go to dinner with me. She’s havin’ a hard time saying yes.”

  Vin’s head shot over at me. “Amber, sweetheart, remember what we talked about? This is my restaurant and you are to see to handling every request Mr. Falco asks for when he is here.”

  “Taking me to dinner doesn’t involve your restaurant,” I argued.

  “Well why not? Ya got the best table in the whole joint right here, besides the private room of course. Just take the man up on his offer already.”

  “But I’m on the clock.”

  “Not anymore,” Vin said, patting me heavily on the shoulder.

  “No, I need my hours.”

  “I’ll pay ya for the whole day.”

  “But I don’t want to leave Natalie with more work.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Vin said, pulling out a chair from the table. “Sit. Eat.”

  I looked at Trent, who had been quietly watching our tennis match of a discussion. “Please, Tren
t,” I basically began to beg. “Let me finish my shift. I promise I’ll have dinner with you when I’m done.”

  Trent lifted his hands. “Hey, I’m not your boss; it’s not up to me.”

  I looked to Vin, and he looked between the both of us. “Well,” he sighed heavily, “if Mr. Falco is okay with waiting that long then you can finish your shift.”

  We both looked to Trent and he smiled. “That’s fine with me.”

  Vin clapped his hands together. “Good! Anything for you, Mr. Falco.” He nodded to Trent and then left us alone.

  Trent crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. He was beaming. “Well it looks like I finally got my wish.”

  “You’re an asshole.” I left the table, leaving him with those words for him to digest.

  Four

  My shift was over and it was time to go have dinner with the cocky mob boss in the corner of the restaurant. I ignored him the rest of my shift; I didn’t even check to see if he needed anything. Natalie did though, unfortunately. Obviously that was Vin’s doing.

  I went to his table and rounded the row of plants. There he was with his head down looking at his phone, his face serious and focused. I couldn’t deny that he looked good, though. He was wearing a baby blue dress shirt but he had the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, showing off the strength of his arms. I knew he was a well-built man judging by the way his suit had fit him, but I didn’t realize just how well built until that very moment. He was a very masculine man, that was for sure.

  I cleared my throat and he looked up from his screen. “All done?” he asked, placing his phone face down on the table.

  “Yes,” I nodded.

  He stood up and came around to where I stood. “Here,” he said, pulling out the chair. “Have a seat.”

  “And a gentleman, too,” I said flatly.

  “You’re surprised?”

  “I really don’t know what to think about you to be quite honest.”

  He sat back down in his chair and leaned forward, clasping his hands together on the table. “That’s why I wanted to have dinner with you. To show you the real me.”

  “What is this, a business meeting?” I said, puffing out a laugh of air. “You look like you’re getting ready to offer me a business proposition or something.”

  He unclasped his hands and relaxed back in his chair. “I only handle business in this restaurant when I’m in the back room. It’s more private.”

  “You mean when you play poker and smoke cigars? That doesn’t sound like business festivities.”

  He smiled. “Boy, you sure are a little spitfire, aren’t you?”

  “When someone makes me do something against my will, then yes, I am.”

  His hands went up in self-defense. “Hey, it wasn’t me who made you stay here. It was Vin.”

  “Yeah, like you didn’t play a significant role in that.”

  He shook his head, his warm chuckle stirring my blood in a way I wish it hadn’t. “You are so interesting.”

  I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat. “Why?”

  “Because you’re not afraid of me.”

  “That’s because I know you won’t hurt me.”

  “And how do you know that?” he asked, his voice warm and friendly.

  “Because you won’t hurt someone that you’re trying to go on a date with. That would pretty much ruin any chance you ever possibly have with me.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that I do have a chance with you then?”

  I shook my head. “You’re amazing,” I said, trying not to smile.

  He didn’t hide his. “Well thank you.”

  “I don’t mean it in the way you want me to mean it.”

  “Hey, a compliment is a compliment. I’ll take it.”

  Vin was suddenly at our table again. “Can I get you two something to eat? We have a wonderful special tonight: Shrimp Fra Diavolo, made to your liking, of course. I highly recommend it.”

  Trent looked over at me. “What do you think, Amber? Would I like it?”

  I stared into his amazingly hypnotizing eyes and sucked my teeth in thought. “Yes,” I told Vin, looking up at him. “But make it spicy.”

  Trent nodded pleasantly. “Then I’ll try that. Thank you.”

  Vin smiled widely and bowed out, forgetting about me completely.

  “Nice,” I scoffed. “Well, I wasn’t too hungry anyway.”

  “You can share with me,” Trent offered.

  My shoulders relaxed a bit; that was nice of him. “Thanks, but I don’t like spicy stuff.”

  He nodded and took a sip of his scotch. “So, why did you think I would like this particular dish?”

  “I don’t think you’ll like it at all. It’s my least favorite dish.”

  “So why did you offer it to me?” he asked before taking yet another sip.

  “Because you’re my least favorite customer.”

  He laughed into his glass, making the amber liquid bubble around the ice. “Well,” he said, setting the glass back on the table, “I wasn’t expecting you to say that. But I like that about you.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because you’re mysterious.”

  “If that’s what you like then I’ll stop being so mysterious.”

  His eyes narrowed, but his face was still soft. “What happened between now and a week ago with you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I first met you in that room back there you were nervous, and dare I say, eager to please me.”

  The way the words ‘please me’ lingered off of his tongue deepened my breaths. He didn’t even say them in a suggestive manner, my ears were just hearing them that way. I begged them to stop.

  “Yeah,” I shrugged. “So?”

  He took a moment and ran his hand through his hair, the same way I had imagined he did. “Well, I know when someone is afraid of me; that’s a huge part of being someone in my position. And you were, for a minute or two maybe. And now you’re talking to me like you don’t know how powerful I am. I mean, you just called me an asshole earlier without blinking an eye.”

  My un-blinking eyes rolled. “Oh, here we go with the power trip . . .”

  “You see?” he said, pointing a finger at me. “Right there. No one in their right mind would ever roll their eyes at me. But you do it no problem. Tell me why.”

  I sighed and leaned forward, placing my arms on the table. “Do you really want to know why?”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “Well, I was afraid of you at first. And trust me, I understand your importance. But a big part of me doesn’t take the mob thing very seriously.”

  “Right. I mean, back when we first met we agreed that the mob doesn’t exist.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And you probably think of the mob as guys with Tommy guns and fedoras, am I right?”

  “Yes,” I laughed. “In fact, that’s close to what I told Manny the night I met you.”

  “Who’s Manny?” he asked casually.

  “The bartender.”

  “You mean the guy who messed up our drink order?”

  “No, that was me, remember?”

  “Nah,” he smiled. “You can never mess anything up.”

  I could feel my face redden as a smile that was driven by his compliment overtook my face. I looked down at my lap. “Well, anyway, everyone keeps saying you’re a mob boss or something. And because of that I was afraid of you. But then you started flirting with me in front of your friends.”

  “Yeah, about that, I’m really sorry. I’m not like that with women to be honest. There was just somethin’ about you . . .”

  His words trailed off, stirring my interest. I looked up at him. “What? What was it about me?”

  He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of his face, resting them against his lips. “I don’t know. I just saw you and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I had to know who you were. And when you gave me that little bit of attitude y
ou intrigued me like no other woman ever has.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. “So, you’re not going to put a hit out on me for that? Or for rolling my eyes at you or for calling you an asshole?”

  He chuckled behind his hands. “No, not today.”

  “Well that’s a huge weight off my shoulders,” I laughed. “But, like I was saying, when you talked to me like that I just saw you as every other man that was trying to impress me or get in my pants or something. I kind of saw red when you did that, and my self-control went out the window I guess. It was stupid how I acted. So, I’m sorry as well.”

  He stared at me for a moment and then leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest. The muscles he had were so apparent when he positioned himself that way, and for a fast second I relished in the sight of them.

  “There’s no need for an apology,” he said. “And I’m not like every other man, I can assure you.”

  “Yeah, I believe it.”

  “And I don’t just mean that in the fact that I hold a certain position. I’m different for a lot of reasons.”

  My attitude toward Trent was really starting to soften. He actually did seem sorry for the way he had talked to me. But still, I was leery of being involved with him.

  I cleared my throat. “Um, listen, Trent, another reason I treated you the way I did was because I was trying to turn you off from me. I figured it was easier to just turn you down then to get involved and, you know, have a hard time getting out of the situation.”

  “You mean you would be afraid that if we were to get involved that I wouldn’t let you leave me?”

  “Well, yeah. That was my thought exactly. I mean, not that you would even want to get involved or anything. I’m sure it was all just harmless flirtation on your part.”

  He stared at me with a blank expression, and then uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, taking a drink from his almost-empty glass.

  Just then Vin came around the corner with Trent’s steaming plate of food. “Here ya go, Mr. Falco,” he said cheerfully while sliding the plate down in front of him. “Can I get ya anything else?”

  “Yes, actually. You forgot to get the dinner order for your beautiful waitress Amber here. I offered to share with her but she recently confided in me that this is her least favorite dish.”