Page 15 of Doll Face

“All right, girl,” Rocco said, bringing his fist back and she leaned forward to bump it with her own.

“Down, boy,” Matteo muttered.

Rocco looked at her through the rearview mirror and winked.

Chapter Six

Matteo placed his hand on her lower back, guiding Macy into the restaurant. Delicious scents of tomatoes, basil, parmesan cheese, and garlic all blended together into ooey gooey goodness. She knew this lunch was going to be the complete opposite of box pasta and dollar store spaghetti sauce.

As soon as Matteo stepped inside, the maître d’ snapped to attention, straightening his already straight spine. Despite a few patrons waiting for a table, they were immediately escorted to a private table in the back, away from prying eyes.

Muted sounds of silverware hitting plates, of tinkling glass, and the underlying murmur of people talking provided more ambiance to their lunch date. Macy couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a restaurant, because anytime she had extra money, it was put aside for her medicine. She didn’t even do fast food.

When she sat, Matteo scooted in her chair before taking his own. The maître d’ handed her a menu book before leaving them alone. She opened the book, trying to make sense of all the dishes, but it was all in Italian.

“Do you have a favorite?” Matteo asked.

“Favorite?”

He nodded to the menu she held. Macy noted he didn’t look in his. She made a quick decision to save herself some embarrassment.

“The only Italian dish I’ve ever eaten is spaghetti. So why don’t you order for me?”

He smirked. “No problem.”

He snapped his fingers over his head and a server immediately arrived. Then he proceeded to order everything in Italian, leaving her once more unable to know what food was coming her way. Once the server left, Matteo smiled at her.

“I ordered us melanzane alla parmigiana,” he said. “Eggplant parmigiana. One of my favorites.”

She smiled, looking forward to trying something new. The server returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Once the cork was popped, a small amount of wine was poured for Matteo to test. He swirled the wine, smelled it, and finally tasted it. Once he nodded, the server poured them a glassful and then left them alone once more.

“So, you come here often?” she asked.

“I do,” he replied. “I own it.”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. “Is that what you do? A restaurant owner?”

“Ihave my hands in many different ventures,” he said, and for some reason the answer felt a little evasive.

Macy had no idea what she was doing here with this man, who could probably buy an island or something.

“Hey,” Matteo said.

She refocused her gaze onto him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Where did you go?”

“Oh, just lost in my own thoughts.”

“Anything to share? Because if your thoughts are about me, then I definitely want to hear your fantasies.”

“What makes you think I have fantasies about you?”

“You were staring at my chest.”

Her brow crinkled. “Pretty sure I wasn’t.”

“Pretty sure you were.”

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