that evening who exactly was Alessandro Damiani. He must have been someone powerful when he effortlessly extracted such respect and obedience.
“We'll split a bottle of your finest chardonnay,” he mouthed in a rich drawl, focusing his dark gaze on me again.
I reddened and offered a jerked nod, practically running away from their table. I scowled at myself, feeling like a complete idiot for once again turning so awkward in his presence. I inhaled a deep breath. I had to stop acting like an immature, lovestruck teenager. Alessandro Damiani was a guest, and I had to be professional around him.
Somehow, I managed to compose myself and shut my mind from his unnerving attention. I continued serving them in a detached, professional manner, and did my best to keep my emotional distance. But despite all that, I was too weak to defeat the devouring restlessness caused by Alessandro Damiani's persistent, black gaze and eventually, I crumbled under the pressure. Things escalated further when I mixed up their plates and created a game of utter confusion until everyone received the dish they'd ordered. The stares from the other three men told me they were unimpressed by my service which must have been miles away from what they’d received from Wendy.
But unlike those other men, Alessandro Damiani went out of his way to thank me every time I brought something to their table, and he spoke in a soft, measured voice that differed greatly from the tone in which I had heard him speak to those sophisticated men who accompanied him. Instead of putting my mind at ease, his behavior managed to upset me further, and made me even more clumsy. To my surprise, not one of the men in his company uttered a single word of complaint, even though their eyebrows raised in critical appraisal on more than one occasion.
As I headed back into the kitchen, I passed Mr. Giordano who stood in the hallway with his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head at me with a cutting look in his eyes. He saw what had happened at Alessandro Damiani's table. I swallowed hard.
“Please tell me they've left!” Carol complained the moment I entered the kitchen, and there was no need for her to explain who she was talking about. “The boss is driving us insane. All he's been doing in the past hour is fussing over their food.”
I shook my head and let out a shaky breath. “They're still here and Mr. Giordano is mad at me because I messed up their orders.”
Carol smiled and gently tugged my shoulder. “Don't worry about it. You know how he is. He won't even remember it by tomorrow.”
“Yes. You're probably right,” I agreed, but wasn't so sure displeasing a man like Alessandro Damiani could be so easily forgotten.
When I emerged outside again, Wendy hurried toward me and said in a curt tone, “The hottie at table six wants more wine. I told him you'd be there in a moment.”
The man referred to as hottie was none other than Alessandro Damiani. Wendy’s snappy tone made me pause. Could she be jealous because she wasn’t asked to wait on their table? That wasn't my fault. If it was up to me, she would have been the one serving him. Wendy sure as hell would have never made such a fool of herself in front of a man of such mysterious importance.
Taking another bottle of expensive chardonnay from the bar, I rushed back to their table. Even though he was busy talking with the man across from him and didn't pay me any attention, my heart still beat rapidly, and my hand shook slightly as I poured the wine into his glass. To my absolute horror, I spilled some of it on his plate. My breath hitched. Sweat broke out against my nape. I apologized profusely, and promised to replace it with a freshly made dish, but before I could grab the plate, his hand caught mine, and I released a loud gasp at the contact. My eyes sprang to his.
“Don't worry about it,” he said, sounding pleasant and courteous. “I was already done eating.”
I nodded and focused my eyes on my wrist where his fingers touched my skin. The moment he released me, I swiftly disappeared into a secluded corner of the dark hallway where I leaned against the wall and fought to breathe.
Commotion sounded from the entrance, and when I peeked toward the door, the three other men were leaving. Alessandro Damiani wasn't among