Page 9 of Bella Rosa
I round the corner and come to a dead stop. What the fuck is she doing here? Rosalie. I never thought I would see her again. And what the hell is she wearing? Those legs are peeking out through a very long slit in her dress that hugs every curve on her beautiful body. She looks even taller in the heels she’s wearing. Her hair is pulled up in a low bun that shows off her slender neck.
I discreetly adjust myself in my pants, and make my way over to her. I can’t help myself. I come up behind the poor hostess that seems terrified by this mesmerizing woman that I still haven’t taken my eyes off of. "What seems to be the problem here?"
That’s when she stops talking and freezes. She quickly composes herself and points a finger at me like I’m the one doing something wrong. "What are you doing here?"
I raise an eyebrow. "I work here."
"Can you please help me get a table?"
She sounds like it’s painful to admit she needs help. Too bad I’m not going to give it to her. "No. We’re full. Make a reservation and come back another night."
I start to move away, but she reaches out and grabs my arm. The electric shock that rolls though my body is enough to stop me in my tracks. What the hell was that? She comes around the hostess stand and gets within a few inches of me. She’s so close I can see now she has green along the edges of her otherwise light brown eyes. Oh shit. I have no business noticing things like that.
"Please help me get a table. I’m writing an article for Foodie magazine and this is one of the only restaurants that was recommended to me within walking distance. It took me fifteen minutes to walk here, and I don’t want to walk back right away in these shoes." She gestures to her shoes while continuing to rapidly fire more words I can’t seem to pay attention to. I don’t think I could break eye contact if there was a gun to my head, and that scares the shit out of me.
"Fine. Get her a table."
If she is really writing an article for that magazine we could use the publicity. I could use that to show my dad why we need to advertise more. Plus, I don’t want her to walk back alone in the dark. Not exactly sure why I even thought about that to be honest, but here we are.
My hostess is now in full panic mode. "But sir, we’re full."
I finally manage to break the spell and look away. "Give her the chef's table in the kitchen." I notice she hasn’t taken her hand from my arm, and I have no intention of moving it for her.
The hostess gives me a nod as she gathers a menu and some silverware. "Right this way."
She begins walking in the direction of my private table in the kitchen. The table is normally reserved for visiting chefs or my friends. Rosalie gives my arm a quick squeeze before she lets go. The sudden loss of contact causes my eyes to meet hers again, and I’m rewarded with the most genuine smile I’ve ever seen. That smile causes my heart to do a weird flip flop.
She turns to walk away. Apparently I’ve been standing in the same spot for so long the hostess has enough time to return. She clears her throat, and gives me a strange look. "Was there anything else, sir?"
"No. That’s all." I turn and head back toward my office so I don’t do anything stupid like go over and ask Rosalie what her favorite color is for God knows what reason. Thankfully the chef's table is on the other end of the kitchen from my office. Small mercies.
When I get back to my office I pull my phone out of my pocket and fire off a text to Luca.
Me:I’m so screwed.
Luca:*rose emoji*
Ah shit.
The Pact
Rosalie
Whyhim?WhyMatteoof all people? And why did he have to look so damn good tonight in his dark green button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows? I can’t believe he works here. I can still feel him watching me as I walk through the doors of the kitchen. I’m glad he can’t hear how fast my heart is beating.
I rub my hand on my leg as I take my seat and thank the hostess. I can still feel his warmth on my hand and feel the shock that went through me when I touched him. I don’t know why I did it. I guess I was just so desperate to not have to walk back right away, and I really wanted to eat here tonight.
The place smells and looks amazing. It’s nice, but not too fancy. The red walls and dark wood flooring of the main room create such a homey feeling in the huge space. Well, huge for Italy, from what I’m gathering anyway. If more than ten tables can fit inside a building it classifies as huge it seems. I guess that’s why so many restaurants choose to be outside the city. The little lights hanging from the ceiling make me feel like I’m in my own private garden.
The light gray walls, stainless steel surfaces, and tile flooring of the kitchen are a stark contrast from the main room. I can't believe I get to sit in the kitchen and watch everyone work.
I pick up my menu and order a glass of wine and an appetizer when my waiter shows up a few minutes later. He smiles and fills an empty glass that was already on the table with water. I realize too late that it’s sparkling water, and almost choke before I even get to try the bread. At least no one saw me. That would have been embarrassing.
The rest of the meal goes smoothly. I get plenty of photos for my article, and make notes about my experience on my notepad I always keep in my large bag. I opted for a large purse tonight with my camera tucked safely inside instead of my full camera bag. Draws less attention this way, and it was less weight to carry on the walk over.
I’m almost positive this is the best food I’ve ever had. When my waiter comes back again to ask if I want dessert, I ask him to give my compliments to the chef. I will definitely be including this restaurant in my article.
Matteo
