The Maid: Mafia Romance (Series)

Café Love SickProperty © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Ten minutes later, on the far east side of campus, I stood in front of a historic building. This was the location of the café Crispin brought me. There was nothing special about this café, but what caught my attention was the name. I’d never heard of a name so peculiar before.

“Love Sick? They named this place Café Love Sick?” I jerked my thumb in the direction of the signboard.

“Yeah. Come along.” Crispin led me to the front entrance, mounting two steps at a time.

“Look who’s eager for food,” I joked as I followed closely behind.

We were side by side by the time we reached the main entrance, and my golly, was it packed.

Why didn’t I know this place existed?

“This place just opened a few months ago,” Crispin answered as if he’d heard my inner thought. “It’s gaining a reputation for the best pastry in town.”

Crispin opened the door for me, and I walked in. The scent of pastry engulfed me and had my mouth salivating like a puppy.

The place was bustling, and the atmosphere was lively. Just my perfect place. Checking out my surrounding, I was pleased to see that none of the furnishings were too modern. The building itself was solid and still retained that old charismatic aura from the 19 th century.

I could see myself in this place often, sitting at one of the tables during their downtime, doing assignments, a nice getaway from Giovanni’s tempting seduction.

A waitress came and led us to our seats. I scanned the menu as soon as she placed it in front of me.

“Do they make eggs Benedict here? I like those.” I threw my question at Crispin.

“Yeah, they do,” I heard Crispin say.

Mind made up, I lifted my head and caught Crispin’s eyes gazing at me. He shifted his focus as soon as my eyes landed on him.

There’s seriously something wrong with him today. I had to get to the bottom of it. I was about to broach the subject when a woman, who looked to be in her mid-twenties with whitish blond hair, greeted us with a charming smile and asked for our order.

Golly! She’s pretty! I had to blink twice to register her presence.

I’d lived in New York since I could remember, so I had seen my fair share of pretty ladies, but this lady surpassed that. She had a presence which caught my attention, a bit like Giovanni’s alluring aura. She was like a white angel descended from heaven. Just so pretty.

Crap! How many times had I said the word pretty? I should stop myself.

I quickly ordered my eggs Benedict with crispy bacon, as well as a cup of hot chocolate and one almond croissant. Crispin ordered the pancakes. As soon as she left, I leaned over to him.

“Psssst,” I whispered. “Did you see that waitress who just took our order? She’s so pretty. Did you see her porcelain skin? Heck! She should be a model. What is she doing waiting tables?”

“Yes, she is pretty. But in a different way.” Crispin poured two glasses of water, then slid the left one to me and took the right one to his lips. He started sipping.

“You like her?”

Crispin went into a choking fit. I went around to rub his back.

“You okay?” I asked in concern.

“Yeah. Just entered the wrong passage.”

“Mm-hmm.” I went back to my seat.

“I… I don’t like her, if that’s what you’re asking,” he explained. “I like someone else.”

“Oh…” I grinned mischievously. An idea formed in my head. “That was a quick denial, Crispin, dear.” Palm under my chin, I teased him some more. “Someone else, huh? How come I didn’t know? Who is this lovely girl, or guy, who has captured your interest?”

Crispin choked on his water again.

“Jenny, it’s a woman. I like women. I’m not gay.” He was quick to point it out.

“All right, just saying. ‘Cause, you know, since we both like reading male-male manga romance and watching boys’ love anime, I thought you might swing both ways. Either way, I’m cool with that. So…” I tapped my finger on the table and whispered to him, “Who’s the girl who had you quick to deny your sexual orientation?”

Crispin didn’t answer. He just looked straight at me, eyes boring so intensely, I wondered if I had ground coffee on my face again.

Hand swiping all over my face I checked for any residual ground coffee but found none.

“There’s nothing on my face, Crispin. Why are you staring at me like that?”

He blinked twice and slowly shook his head. “Nothing.”

He smiled, probably relieved that I didn’t push the subject of girlfriends onto him. He always got agitated when I asked him about these subjects. Must be his sensitive spot, or something.

“Say, I’m free the whole day. What should we do? That is, if you want my company,” I asked casually.

“Your company is always a breath of fresh air for me, Jenny.”

“Glad to hear that I’m not just dust and mites in the air that suffocate your daily life.” I nodded. “Anywho, where to after this? I’m free until five p. m. We have about five hours to kill.”

“We could go check out the new bookstore that just opened up around the corner,” he suggested.

“Sounds good. Let’s go there after lunch.”

The food arrived much faster than I’d anticipated. Right in front of me was the hot chocolate I’d ordered, the eggs Benedict which had my mouth salivating nonstop, and the…

Wow! Just wow!

“Crispin, did you see this?” I showed him the almond croissant on my plate. “Isn’t it cute. They made the croissant in the shape of a love heart.”

“Yeah, it’s cute,” he smiled amusedly.

Because it was too irresistible to resist, I took one bite and slowly put the rest of the heart croissant down.

“Well?” Crispin asked.

“Rest in peace, taste buds,” I recited seriously, like a minister in a church. “Because my taste buds just flew to heaven.”

And Crispin burst into a laughing fit, along with me, too. Before the staff caught us giggling like a bunch of teenagers, we calmed down with a final giggle.

“Oh, Crispin. This is some damned good stuff,” I mumbled between bites. “It tastes absolutely amazing. I could come here every day.”

“Told you. You should try out their cinnamon roll next.”

“Next time. You know what I think they should do? Promote this croissant on Valentine’s Day,” I explained, waving my fork around while I spoke. “Then lovers can come here and eat these heart-shaped croissants. Actually, Crispin, just food for thought here; you know that girl you like, maybe you could confess to her by buying her this love heart croissant. How does that sound. Good? Hmm?”

“I’ll, I’ll buy it for you next time we’re here.”

“Don’t worry about me.” I declined his kind offer. “Buy it for your girl. I’m sure she’ll like it.”

“Yeah.” Crispin looked down, and something just looked a bit off.

“Crispin. You okay?” I tried to catch his attention, but he kept looking at the tablecloth. I grabbed his chin and took my fill of his face. “Crispin, you don’t look too good. Your color’s a bit off. Are you okay? Want me to take you to the hospital?”

“Jenny. I’m fine.” He plastered on a smile.

I knew that fake smile from a mile away. But I couldn’t do anything to help until he opened up to me about what was troubling him.

“Well, you just say the word, okay? We don’t have to hang out if you don’t feel like it,” I offered.

“No, Jenny. I want to hang out with you,” he quickly put in, just in case I’d changed my mind.

“Okay. Good.” I nodded, still a little unsure. “Just… I’m worried. If you’re not feeling well, you tell me.”

“Thanks, Jenny, for caring about me.”

“Of course, I care about you. You’re my only friend.” I smirked, then screeched when I looked down and saw what was left of my heart croissant. “Not again. Here I go, yapping nonstop, and now I’ve almost finished my croissant. I need to eat my eggs Benedict first. No finishing dessert before lunch. That’s my rule.”

“You and your little rules,” Crispin chuckled, and the somber atmosphere lifted.

I chomped down on my eggs Benedict and sent my taste buds to heaven again.

“Oh, golly! Why does everything here taste so good? It’s food porn, I say. Food porn,” I yapped again. I was making a fool of myself in front of Crispin, but I didn’t care.

“What do you know about porn?” Crispin asked, laughing at my joke.

“Nothing. Just heard that term from one of our classmates.”

“Don’t go using that word without the context of food in front; otherwise, it’ll sound weird.”

“Aye, aye, captain Crispin.”

Up next on my food porn list was a sip of the hot chocolate. The smooth velvety texture was on my tongue before the bitterness hit my taste buds, and I almost spat the whole thing out. I quickly washed my tongue off with water.

“Hahaha…” He burst into laughter while I was having a fit.

“Crispin, why didn’t you tell me about their drinks?” I slapped him on the shoulder when I managed to compose myself again.

“Sorry. Just wanted you to taste it firsthand. It’s pretty bad, huh? Their coffee is a bit hit or miss sometimes.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say bad, per se. More like the person who made this hot chocolate should go back to barista school and practice more.”

“Yeah.”

I went back to eating then, and to make sure I wasn’t tempted to taste that hot chocolate again, I pushed it away from me.

“Well, apart from the drinks, the rest is pretty good, huh?” he asked me.

“Yeah. That’s their only downfall.” I agreed.

“Yeah. If only they could get someone who’s consistent at making excellent tasting coffee, I’m sure this place would get even more lively.”

“Mm-hmm.” I nodded, glancing around at the people. The bustle was starting to die down, with people drifting out slowly. A lot of the patrons simply came for the pastries.

The place was already amazing as it was, but what Crispin said was true. If their coffee was also amazing, I was sure this place would be abuzz all the time.

An epiphany knocked me on the head. Maybe I could work here. Yes. Kill two birds with one stone. I could help them with their coffee and earn money for myself. What a bonus. Like an allowance. And also, something to save, just in case there came a time when Giovanni no longer wanted me.

A sharp pain stung me when that thought surfaced. It hurt. I didn’t want to think about it. I shook my head, pushing that grim thought into the corner of my mind somewhere, hoping it would never resurface.

To distract myself, I took a sip of the cold water Crispin poured for me and wondered to myself if Giovanni had texted me today. He always texted me at random hours. The man had no respect for privacy.

Pondering on this question, I took a glance at my phone while munching lunch, when God almighty, my hand slipped. It just completely slipped, and now my phone was swimming in my glass of water.

“Ahhh!” I screeched. “My phone.”

I fished it out of the water glass and checked the system.

Well, crap! The thing just died on me.

What did I expect? It was a cheap phone, anyway.

“You all right, Jenny?” Crispin asked when he saw me mourning my dead phone. “We’ll get it fixed after this. I know a place. I’ll take you there after lunch.”

I lifted my eyes and saw Crispin looking extremely worried. I grinned at him and shook my head. “No worries, Crispin. I’m fine. Just sucks that I might not be able to receive text messages, is all.”

“Are you expecting a text from someone?” Suddenly, his voice turned angry. “Jenny, is it your landlord again?”

Huh? Landlord? What landlord? And then it clicked. Oh, right … Giovanni. My landlord.

“Um… yes. My landlord again,” I lied. “I’m expecting a text from him.”

Bad Jenny. Why do you keep telling lies to your one true friend? Sooner or later it’s going to come spilling out, and it’s not going to end with a happy love song. Better bring some cheese and crackers, too, with a bottle of wine if I were to confess when the time came.

“Damn, Jenny. If that old geezer is causing you that much trouble, why don’t you just get out of there? I’ve never seen a landlord who demands their tenant’s attention this much. What’s up with him anyway?”

I bit my lip and just focused on drinking my bittersweet hot chocolate, knowing full well that if I uttered another word, I would roast in hell.

I felt really bad, especially in this situation. How could I tell Crispin that my lover was Giovanni, the mafia boss of New York City? If Crispin knew, would he sever our friendship? I didn’t want that.

Crispin was a straight and honest guy. If he knew who I associated with, he’d go berserk, mental, insane. The image in my head was not drawing a nice picture. I shivered at the thought.

“Your meal is getting cold, Jenny. Chow down,” he said, distracting me from my thoughts before I could lament any further.

“Delicious.” I couldn’t stop saying. “Who made this croissant anyway?”

The taste of the almond croissant was nutty but very light and fluffy. But the heart shape, that was something else entirely. I was so lucky something this delicious didn’t sell out fast.

“Lily made it,” Crispin replied.

“Lily?” I perked up at hearing the name.

“That’s the owner’s name,” he explained when he saw my confused face.

I looked around the café. There were about two staff running the front of house. The lovely blond model and an older lady. I eyed the older lady. She looked like the owner.

“That’s Lily there.” Crispin pointed out, to my dismay. “The waitress you thought was a model. She bakes, cooks, as well as takes care of the front of house business.”

“Wow.” That was all I could say.

I was dumbfounded. Not only was she pretty and model material, but now she had been upgraded to a superwoman in my eyes.

“She’s my idol,” I told Crispin, to which he responded with a shake of his head.

“Why?”

“Why do you ask why? ‘Cause she’s achieved so much, that’s why. And she’s young, too,” I said, while I watched her work. She was running her feet off, smiling and greeting her customers, but there was sadness in her eyes that I could detect.

“She works hard. Did I tell you she’s only twenty-five? And she went to our college.”

“Brooklyn College?”

“Yeah. She didn’t graduate though. Rumor has it that she went through some bad stuff. Had a kid, too, with some guy.”

“Geee! Some wrong decision, maybe?”

“Nah! Said she loved him. They broke up because of something.”

“Wow! That must be pretty tough.”

“Tough? Look at you,” Crispin lectured me. “Your father and sister abandoned you, leaving you all alone to fend for yourself, and here you feel sorry for someone else.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say abandoned. They went to live somewhere else, is all.” I played with the rim of the coffee cup, my eyes downcast.

I was intentionally avoiding eye contact with him. Deep down I was embarrassed and disgusted with myself for not facing the truth. Why must I always make excuses for Pa and Amelia. Crispin was right. They had abandoned me. I should just forget about them and start living my life. With Giovanni. But somewhere in my heart I’d hoped they’d come back to find me and apologize to me for what they’d done. Even if Pa wouldn’t, at least Amelia would. But even Amelia had disappeared into thin air.

“Well, I think she’s in a worse state,” I said, trying to ease my own pain. “At least I don’t have a kid to look after. Twenty-five and with a kid, too; that’s got to be tough. Say, how old is her kid?”

“Six years old. A boy.”

“Oh, cute.” I made a cute face before the information sank in. “Wait… back up a bit here. If her kid is six years old, that meant she had him when she was nineteen?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s my age.”

“Yeah.”

“She was pregnant at eighteen?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. That’s pretty young. Must be hard.”

“Yeah. But she’s managing all right, I guess.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

And for that one small moment, my heart throbbed with delight because I had Crispin as my friend and Giovanni as my lover. What more could I want? Even without Pa and Amelia with me, I had people who cared for me. My world, at that moment, was rosy.