Mafia Queen – chapter 9



Written By : Pamela James

©Youngicee stories



Chapter 9

She darted her eyes around the room, suddenly thinking about the fact that he was probably only nice to her because he thought he could date her.

I mean, why else would he go above and beyond just to a help a lowly girl?

“Why? Are you too busy? We could always just have a quick food run if lunch is too much right now,” he suggested.

She squeezed her lips into a thin line,

“That might not be the problem….” she started to drift off.

His hand starting to play with her fingers and she inwardly flinched,

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Well, it’s just that—” she gulped,

“I have a boyfriend.”

And just like that, as if all his efforts were wasted, she saw his eyes widen and his hand freeze.

He slowly moved his hand away from hers and she watched in regret as be leaned back on the chair before crossing his arms over.

She knew that at this point, she had just ruined her chances of going to Paris.

“Boyfriend? I never heard of this,” he muttered.

She gave an awkward smile,

“Yeah, we didn’t go into that topic the last time we met.”

She waited for his reply and quietly glanced at him while he stared at the empty table.

Was it really that bad?

But then she reminded herself that business people are very driven.

If it’s too much a risk, they won’t pursue it.

At least, that’s what her dad told her.

“I see,” he murmured.

She sat there awkwardly and replied with a small smile.

She didn’t know whether she should have just gotten up and left because it was just that awkward.

At that point she had desperately hoped that the receipt would come quicker so she could leave. It was honestly just really uncomfortable now.

“How long have you two been together?”

She whipped her head up at him surprise.

She didn’t think he would ask.

“Um, around four months?”

“So, not that long,” he raised.

She glanced sideways and slowly responded with an unsure,

“I guess?”

“What do you think of him?”

Confusion painted on her face, she was starting to wonder why he was asking.

“Well, he is nice, I guess. And by that, I mean, he is funny, kind and thoughtful…”

Her words had drifted from her mouth and she found it was hard to answer these questions.

Not because she couldn’t think, it was because it was Damien and she was scared of his reaction.

“No problems?”

Again, she was alarmed at his sudden questions.

A slight feeling that he was asking more than what someone usually asks.

“Not that I can think of,” she replied uneasy whilst awkwardly shaking her head.

“Good to hear.”

They sat there in silence for the next minute as she desperately screamed inside her head for the waiter to come by quickly.

The silence was killing her. But not only that, it felt like damien was staring at her weirdly but she didn’t want to look up and check, just to make sure they didn’t cross gazes.

“Here you are, sir,” a waiter finally interrupted.

A flood of relief flushed through her as she saw the receipt in the middle of the table.

She quietly thanked the the waiter with the most sincere eyes that wanted to just hug the guy for being her saviour.

“Thank you for paying,” she said standing up,

“I will make sure to repay you one day.”

She watched him smile at her and she couldn’t help but think that he was faking it.

“No worries. Keep a look out for my calls,” he replied.

She nodded with a polite smile and quietly pushed in her chair. She endured the final moments while walking with him to his luxurious car that stood out quite a bit in the middle of the street. She watched him put on a pair of sunglasses and roll the window, looking so out of place, even the pedestrians walking by had to stop and stare. Before she was about to leave and run home sobbing, he lowered his sunglasses onto his nose bridge and stared directly at her.

“I will see you soon,” he said before he sped off the low streets.

She waved him a goodbye until she could no longer see the car then proceeded to stand there on the pavement just watching the empty road as if she was waving a tearful goodbye at Paris.

The only thing left behind after the awkward ‘date’ was the sentimental departure of her chances of an early career start.

Instead, it was replaced with a spew of carbon emissions and an earful of jet-engines roaring at her cochlea from the pipe-thingy at the back of the car.

Although he said he would ‘see her soon’, she really doubted that he would even contact her at all after this.



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