3. Blind Date

1114 Words
___________ . . . “Whoa, are we even allowed here?” Alessandro looked around like a peasant who had never seen such grandeur. Eden shrugged as she waved at the receptionist. “You wouldn't be allowed if you came in alone looking like that. But that's alright since I am here with you.” “I never understood why people cared so much about appearance.” Alessandro tried to bait her. “Isn't what's on the inside that counts, right?” She turned to face him, gave him a long look and then sighed. “Now that doesn't work in the world where we live, does it? I have reserved a private room. Let's go.” Alessandro nodded and followed her to the second floor where an attendant opened the double doors to a grand minimalist private dining room with a seating capacity for six. “Why all the grandeur?” Alessandro asked. “We could have eaten down at the restaurant.” “It's not about grandeur. It's just a matter of privacy.” Eden shrugged as she sat down and picked up the glass of champagne waiting for her. Alessandro nodded and sat down opposite to her, at the far end of the table, picking up his own glass of liquor. “You don't seem too interested in talking to me,” he said. “That's because I am not.” “Oh yeah, I am not the kind of person you must have expected-” “You the mafia?” It took everything in Alessandro to look just confused and not downright stupefied by the question. “I am sorry?” “My mother, and a lot of pap articles describe you as a crime family. What kind of crime?” Eden was fiery. That much was true and Alessandro understood and respected that. But he was Alessandro Gretto. He was not one to be fazed or brought down by a sudden interrogation. “A crime family?” he asked, as if hearing of it for the first time. “I have heard of a lot of things, but a crime family is a first.” Eden raised a brow. “I guess when an Italian family climbs the food chain in American society, people make up all sorts of stories about them. If you would just search the Internet, you would only find respectful articles about us in the Italian news. It's the Americans that make up lies about us.” He lied smoothly, completely omitting the fact that the only reason the Italian news said good about them was because they were either paid to or were too scared to do otherwise. Eden nodded thoughtfully. She really did not want to dig deeper into it. After all, there had been no real police reports or cases against the Gretto family - just a lot of speculation from the unreliable pap and her even more unreliable gossip monger of a mother. "I guess that makes sense." She nodded, finally a small smile appearing on her lips. Alessandro took a sip of his champagne, his eyes never leaving hers. "So, Eden Wellington, tell me about yourself. Besides being the daughter of a socialite and business mogul." Eden shrugged as the attendant walked in to take the order. "May I recommend the Chef's special? This hotel prides itself on Chef Miguel's ability to create magic," Eden said, declining the menu book from the attendant. Alessandro nodded and passed his menu to the man. "I trust your judgement. Whatever you recommend." The attendant nodded before exiting the room, leaving them alone with the sound of their own breathing. "So..." Alessandro spoke up to eliminate the awkwardness. "Where were we? Tell me about yourself." Eden shrugged. "I am the only daughter of Aria Wellington and the late Jeff Robertson. I studied business. I run a company." "What do you do in your free time?" Alessandro leaned back in his chair, watching her intently. "In my free time... I sleep." The mafia man raised a brow. "You sleep?" "It's very difficult to run both your parents' companies. I usually don't have much time to myself. Which is why I think it would be a bad idea to get married right now. I am in no place to have a personal life right now." Eden was straight-forward. And she also needed to get her plight laid out on the table before her mother barged in. As if on cue, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Sasha which read, 'Drama alert'. Eden sighed. Her Mom was on her way. "I was made to believe your mother ran the companies," Alessandro said thoughtfully, and this time there was no feigning. He was genuinely curious. Eden nodded. "Well, she does. But I do most of the grunt work. She handles the glamour." "The promotions and the events." Alessandro nodded in understanding. He looked at her thoughtfully. This was not the family dynamic that he had expected to see here. He was actually looking forward to two atrocious women who could not stop gushing over him. He had expected Eden to throw herself at him by this point. Was it because she was different? Or because he looked different? Yet again, he regretted the look that he had gone for. The doors flung open, and Aria Wellington entered in a translucent white dress with bejeweled undergarments. Alessandro cringed at the whole look, complete with a top hat. Eden's appearance looked normal in front of this. He looked over at the girl and stifled a chuckle at the mixed look of horror and disgust on her face. Maybe his sources had been wrong - the mother-daughter did not get along after all. "Who is he?" Aria jerked her head as she talked to Eden, not giving Alessandro a second glance. "Alessandro Gretto, the man I am on a blind date with." Eden rolled her eyes as Aria stood there glowering at her daughter. "Step outside for a moment, Eden." She said, completely ignoring the man once again. Eden had half a thought about disobeying her, but she did not want to make a scene in front of the guest. So, unwillingly, she got off the chair, took a full swing of her champagne and followed her mother out of the room. Alessandro leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers together. "Interesting. Very interesting." He chuckled. He had not come to a conclusion yet, but he had a notion that Eden was not that bad. Now the question was, would she be good enough for him? Would she prove to be useful to him? . . . ____________
Free reading for new users
Scan code to download app
Facebookexpand_more
  • author-avatar
    Writer
  • chap_listContents
  • likeADD