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Italian Coffee House

Italian Coffee House

Author:Stars-vs-Chocolates

Updating

Billionaire

Introduction
A Recipe for a Disaster Serving 6Ingredients:1 lb. Brute of a Sinfully Gorgeous Boss1 lb. Shy Beautiful Broken Waitress2 tbsp. Gorgeous Matchmaking Sister1 1/4 tsp. of Dreamy Crush1 cup of Sassy Best Friend1 bowl of Melted Chocolate Method: Add Brute of a Boss and Broken Waitress to a large bowl together with a bowl of warm molten Chocolate. Stir well before adding Matchmaking Sister to the mixture. Heat one cup of Best Friend in a saucepan before drizzling over the mixture and again, stir well. Finally, for a burst of flavor garnish with a 1/4 cup of Crush. Do enjoy!
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Chapter

*Dari*

"Dara, you are such a sweetheart." Papa smiled sadly as I helped him from the shower to the bedroom in our one-bedroom apartment. "You didn't have to do that!"

"I love you, Papa." I laughed despite myself.

I love my papa and I would go to great lengths to ensure his comfort. I dried him off with a towel before dressing him in his pajamas and tucking him into bed, making sure he was ok.

"She's a good one papa. I just hope you don't scare her off with all your flirting. Food may be a bit scarce for a while, but I will work extra hard. She's outside, ok? I'm going to call her in."

"Josie?" I peeked my head out into the empty hallway. Josie, the sweet blonde caretaker, stepped timidly along the hall as she made her way towards us.

"Thank you so much for this. I cannot thank you enough."

"Not at all." Josie blushed shyly as I urged her into the room.

"Papa, this is Josie." I glanced at my papa, only to find him waving at her with a wide smile on his face. "This is my papa, Jaden John."

"You can call me JJ," Papa said, winning a chuckle from Josie.

"I'm sorry if he's a little too flirtatious. Once he gets his medication, he'll sleep like a baby."

"Hey, I'm still right here," Papa replied, coaxing a chuckle from me.

"It's alright. I don't mind," Josie replied. "I find the elderly refreshing."

"Hey, like wine, I get better with age," Josie and I erupted in laughter at my papa's comment.

Yes, my papa could be a real charmer.

"I made food for papa. It's in the fridge and if he asks you for that cursed energy drink, don't give it to him." I sat at his bedside, placing a kiss at his temple.

"One, my heart dost love the light. Two, the light that guides my heart. Three, when day turns to night my heart among the shiny stars."

I raised my hand from on his chest as he removed his hand from my face. It was our secret handshake. I was his light, and he was my heart.

Mama left us when I was ten. Shortly after Papa was coming home to me when a car ran the red light, running full speed into his car. He'd sustained only minor injuries with the exception of a strained hamstring. Our neighbour at the time, Ms. Alice, a very nice middle-aged woman, brought me to the hospital.

It was a month later when my papa asked me questions no daughter should have to hear: 'Who was I?' and 'Where I'd come from?'. Ms. Alice managed to carry us to the hospital. That's when my papa had been diagnosed with post-traumatic amnesia.

It's been a hard couple of years, but we are doing fairly well now. Except, the rent literally absorbed all the money that could be used for his medical as well as food supplies.

My income wasn't enough to pay for all papa's medicine, replenish the food supplies and hire a caretaker to take care of him while I was at work, so I had to sacrifice. Most days I eat what I can at work.

Niccolò's Chocolate House. It sounds like some sort of exotic escort service, doesn't it? That's what I thought before I saw the coffee house itself.

In reality, it was an elite bistro where the wealthy dined at breakfast in the day, and it transformed to an exquisite Italian restaurant at night.

"If you need me, please call me on this number." I handed her a sticky note with the number for the Coffee House.

In all the drama, I really couldn't afford a phone, but I tried to check up on papa every time I was on my break.

"Bye papa, I love you. Bye Josie, thank you again."

"I love you too, Dari."

"You're welcome, Adaramola. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him."

"Please call me Dara or Dari. It's easier." I replied on my way out.

I fetched my satchel and my bus ticket on the kitchen counter before I headed out.

It's not common for someone of my bearings to work night shifts, but that's when the big tips come in and important people visit the Coffee House. And besides most of the time, I didn't have to deal with the brute who was my boss, the devil himself, Niccolò Casimiro.

Niccolò Casimiro was the most terrifying man I'd ever crossed paths with one unfortunate day luckily Stephan, my co-worker and long-time crush, had been there to offer his aid.

Mr. Casimiro had barked at me because a customer had complained of there being too much pepper in the Chocolate Pasta, one of the amazing specials offered at Niccolò's.

Niccolò had towered easily over my five-foot-three figure with his six-foot-four frame as he pinned his menacing gaze on me.

No, I'm not the chef, just a poor waitress who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It hadn't even been my order, but he'd yelled at me, nonetheless, skying the dishes before the glass shattered on the floor.

He didn't care.

He simply turned the other way, leaving the room as I tried to hold back tears, removing the five-hundred-dollar ceramic plate from the floor.

Stephan and my friend, Tionnè, my fellow wait staff had been the only ones to lend me a hand after Mr. Casimiro's eruption. Stephan, the beautiful guy that I had all at once fallen in love with, and Tionnè, my sexy best friend. They were my only friends at work. I was glad to retain my job regardless of Mr. Casimiro's misfire.

Yes, I could've yelled back and preserved my dignity, but my dignity wouldn't pay the bills.

I got off the bus, hightailing to the restaurant so that I wouldn't arrive a second late.

Mr. Casimiro was as strict as they came and wouldn't tolerate tardiness in any member of staff. Not even his Floor Manager, Napoleo.

Once, I saw one of the waitresses arrive a minute early and Mr. Casimiro went off the rails. He fired her on the spot.

I couldn't risk it. So even if I had to faint in the doorway two-fifty in the afternoon, I was going to make sure I got there before time.

Finally, I made it to the restaurant with ten minutes to spare, running to the door only for it to open and me to plough into Mr. Casimiro himself, who prior to the collision had been on a call.

My eyes widened in shock and horror as I fell on top of him in the doorway.

"Mr. Casimiro … please forgive me. I didn't mean to knock you over. I didn't see--"

"--Well, open your eyes dammit!" He growled, interrupting me mid-sentence while swatting my offered hand away in annoyance as he stood, regaining his balance. He dusted off his expensive Italian suit before picking up his cellular which had fallen to the ground and suffered a damaged screen. "Why are you still here? Get to work."

His tone caused me to jump in fright before I lowered my gaze to the floor, walking by him and into the Coffee House. As I entered, Tionnè came over, embracing me in a hug.

"Do you want me to distort that pretty face of his?" Tionnè pulled away a bit, cupping my face.

"No, Tey, I don't know what I would do if you got fired." I couldn't help but hold unto her dearly. She was the sister I never had. "I couldn't lose you."

"Not when you get all mushy like that. It's good for my self-esteem. How's Papa?"

"Papa's doing well. I called the caretaker as you suggested. Josie seems nice enough." I squeezed her hand as she pulled me away from the door.

"Let's get to work before Godzilla returns." We laughed at her comment as we made our way to the rear of the kitchen where the staff room was located.