Page 154 of Heartless Mafia Prince

“Eighteen. My birthday is coming up in November.” She glanced over her shoulder.

“I have to help other customers. I’ll return with your meal shortly.”

“Thanks.” I sipped the ice tea.

We were six years apart. Melanie didn’t come off immature. She was at work, so she carried herself in a professional manner. Where did I get off caring about our age difference? I was marrying another woman. A woman I wanted nothing to do with. My bodyguards weren’t happy I told them to stay outside. I didn’t want to alarm Melanie. I wondered how much she knew about me.

“Here you are.”

I peeked up from my glass.

Melanie placed the food in front of me. “Be careful the plate is hot.”

“It smells delicious.”

“Enjoy.”

“Wait, Melanie.”

She turned to face me.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yeah. They call you Lucky Luciano in my neighborhood.”

“My friend Urbano started that nickname. Well, he got it from a mafia movie. One night, we were walking down the street. I heard car tires screech behind me. It all happened in a matter of seconds. I had no time to react. By the time I turned around, the car stopped inches away from my legs. I could’ve died. From that day forward, the name stuck. My friends usually only say it when their trying to be funny.”

She laughed.

“You find humor in them making fun of me?”

“Yes, who would’ve thought someone made fun of Luciano Conti.”

“You have a beautiful smile.”

“Thank you. I’ll let you enjoy your meal. You might be one of the last customers here tonight.”

“I don’t mind.”

She shrugged, then scurried off to assist her other customers.

After the last customer walked out the door, I asked Melanie all kinds of questions. What high school did she graduate from? Did she travel? I had to know everything about this woman. It was obvious by now I was there to see her. But she never asked me why her?

Every night she worked; I was seated in her section. I had to fit in extra workouts during the day to burn off the meals.

I sat at my usual table, if it was available, facing the back door. My men had the front covered.

The fried okra on my plate stared back at me. “Are you sure I should try this?” I glanced at Melanie.

She stood near the table, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Luciano, how will you know if you like it or not if you don’t try it?”

I was ecstatic to hear my name fall from those plum lips.

“Ok.” I pointed my fork at her. “There’s no way I’d try this if it weren’t for you.”

I stabbed a few pieces of okra with my fork and tossed them in my mouth.

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