THE ITALIAN BOSS

MAURIZIO FERRARI One thing I will never tolerate in my businesses is incompetence. How could my employee be so rational? I heard that this was not the first time she had something like this done and today I saw it myself. After many complaints that I received about her; I don’t think I still want to keep her in my restaurant. She is going to cost me customers and my regulars. I was watching her from upstairs, standing by the balustrade. I had already summoned her to my office and I believe that is her, knocking on my door. “In!” I shout. The door swings open. And there she is. A petite with big boobs which caught my attention, gracing me with her presence. She slightly closes the door and walks over to my table and, I just don’t know where she got the audacity for her to pull a chair and sit down when I never gave her permission to. “Sir, you called me?” And, she doesn't even look guilty. I tilt my head and puff on my cigar, filling the room with the smoke. She looks different, and her accent is very different too. Her attitude is not hard to miss... it is quite nasty. I hardly ever come to this restaurant to watch over things. I have a manager for that, as I am busy with my other businesses. Yeah, that's who I am; a mother-f*****g businessman. You will learn about who I am as time goes, but for now I have a mami to attend too. Damn, my restaurant has hot waitresses. Maybe this is what attracts the customers I have most, especially men. Perves! "Sir, I don't have all day! I have tables waiting for me," She complains. Very fiesty… challenging too I see. "Where are you from, signora?" That is the first thing I ask her. She widens her eyes at my question, like I just said something out of line. I am asking this because she does not sound Italian, or even look like one. Her hair, skin is just so different. Not that I am being phobic against her, but I am eager to find out more about her. "Sir, I believe everything is in my portfolio. If there isn't anything else, I would like to take my leave," Why does she speak as if I know her or have I seen or met her before? Because, I am pretty sure today is my first time seeing her. "Portfolio?" Did she say Portfolio? Portfolios are only meant for students in the Vesuvio International School of Hospitality (VISH) that I am funding, well not really funding but I am actually laundering my money. Funding is just a front. "Yes, sir. I am one of the VISH students that were recently sent to this restaurant to do practicals, but I am doing what I shouldn't be doing! I am a cook, a chef for goodness sake! Not some damn waitress," And she shouts at her boss too? I am so surprised at her behaviour, literally! I like challenge; but it depends from who. She looks innocent; something that makes my d**k twitch. Brace yourself Maurizio! Maybe that is because she has never heard of Maurizio Ferrari, but some call me 'Two Sec'. Two sec? You must be wondering, but you will find out soon. You should be scared when you hear the name. It does not sound scary, but it should make you shake in your boots, because anything can happen in two seconds. Hahaha, excuse the pun! "And, that gives you a right to mistreat my customers, signora?" "I mistreated them? Did they tell you how they made me take wrong orders?" "I saw everything from up here, lady and I will not tolerate you blaming my customers for your mistakes! Do you see those chefs in the kitchen? They even started way beyond where you are starting your journey! They used to scrub toilets, clean the floors and tables, wash the dishes and you are complaining about being a mere waitress!" I bang the table which startles her. This is Italy. We do things the Italian style. If she is not used to how things are done here, she should go back to wherever the world she is coming from. "Sir, you don't understand..." She tries to explain, but I won't budge. I get on my feet and walk to her side. I pull her face by the jaws, forcing her to look at me. "I understand that you will stand up, turn on your heels and get your ass out there to table 8 and f*****g apologise. Or, I will personally write a letter to VISH and let out my complaint about you. You will be cancelled and deregistered in the academy. Either you comply, or you get your years of training go to waste and you will start over with your career. Do you want that?" I firmly ask. She drops her head down to her fingers. "No, sir," She said in a low tone. "Good. Get me your file on that shelf over there. They are packed alphabetically, so it should be easier to find your name on it," I walk back to my seat and take a few puffs on my cigar, before I leave it on an ashtray to burn. It shouldn't take long to die, as it is already small. She stands up, and hell-f*****g-damn, her skirt is just small! She must have read my head, because she immediately pulled her thigh revealing skirt down. She models across the room and gets to the shelves. She looks up and tries to reach the file on top, but her height is just below the belt. There is no way she can reach that. It is fascinating to watch her struggling. She came in here with an attitude, now I want her to beg me to help her. Seeing her struggling to reach the top, I got up and walked up to her. ANASTASIA GRIFFITHS I couldn't reach the file sir asked for. It was in the upper shelf and no matter how much I tried to jump to reach it, it was just too far. Just when I was about to turn and ask for something to climb on; I felt hands on my waist gripping me tight which instantly lifted me up. I didn't even dare to fight the hands off me. I just grabbed the file and I was put back down on my feet as soon as I got it. I am still facing the shelves and I am scared to turn and look behind me. Sir caught me by surprise. My heart is beating rapidly and I just can't manage to stabilize it. Again, he flips me like I am some sort of page in a book. Now my eyes get to meet with his jungle-green eyes. So beautiful, yet intimidating. I swallow the dry air as he moves his body very close to mine. I haven't been this close to a man in 5 years. The last time I did, was when I broke my virginity and fell pregnant with my now 5 year old daughter. I was eighteen and scared that my dream of ever becoming a chef would go down the drain, but look at me. I am in Naples, Italy doing my final year in a culinary school. I am proud to say I am doing well, so is my daughter. I am very glad I have a very supportive family, especially my mother. She has been nothing but my rock. "Sir, what are you doing?" I ask as his hands massage my waist, sending a very tingling sensation in my body, making my c******s throb. "You being a waitress does not make you anything less than a chef," His voice whispers very close to my ear. We are actually breathing the same air, that is how close he is to me. He smells very manly, very seducing and provocative. But, there is just something that screams 'Dangerous' about him, which makes me scared. "You were not told to do the waitressing job for fun, signora. This is the first step to make your way to the kitchen. This is the time where you observe your customers, what they like, how they prefer their food cooked, how long they can handle waiting for their food, how to replace foods they don't want with what you would actually suggest to them. I can go on about this the whole day, but use your knowledge. You are a beautiful signora to not understand the duties of a restaurant. We don't just wake up to be billionaires—we all have to start somewhere," I was so close to losing my breath when his grip on my waist losened up and he stepped back, taking the file from me. I swear I felt something dripping on my coochie. As soon as I get out of here, I am heading straight to the ladies'. For a moment, I almost lost myself in this man. "Are you okay," He asks, scanning through my portfolio file. I guess he is searching for my name. "Anastasia Gri-Griffiths?" And he said it so perfect. He asks, as if he didn't just torture me. "You look flustered, do you have fever?" What the f**k? "I'm fine, sir." I watch him parade back to his desk, but he sits on the edge of his table, one leg up, swinging in the air, and the other foot rested on the floor, facing the humongous window, viewing the blue ocean. I am still stuck in the same sport. I don't trust my wobbly legs to take me ateast two steps ahead. I need to register what just happened. "Anastasia, you are originally from South Africa. You have been an Italian resident for five years…" I am not sure if he was questioning me, or reading out. He turns and looks at me. "You 23 years?" Hell f*****g yeah! What was he thinking, pressing his hard, strong, sexy body on mine? "Why are you still standing there?" If I dare move, the Victoria fall is going to break lose and the violent water will spill on the floor. I can't risk that. But of course, I did not say that out loud. "Uh," Words fail to come out of my mouth. He rudely dismisses me with his hand, beckoning me to get out of his sight. Bustard! My new f*****g crush! ***