Mafia Bosses Got Me: The Dark Mafia Romance Collection

When the urge to travel overtakes, it should be tempered with at least a little practicality and logic. That wasn't exactly how things had gone in Ella's case but, oh well.

It was how she found herself bouncing around bars and hotels all over the world. Sure, she had her little studio flat in Glasgow as a base, but in recent years she was hardly ever there.

Instead, she was as close to settled as she had been for a long time. In a pompous hotel in Boston. It also happened to be where she met someone, she'd call her closest friend and unofficial landlord of sorts - she'd been crashing at his for as long as she could remember now, reassurances it was fine despite her attempts to get moved out the way.

“Bentley, event room six.” the familiar voice called as she hung up her coat in a locker, turning to catch James staring from the doorway, doing his level best to hide the smile as she groaned in exaggerated annoyance “Another day, another group of businessmen who skimp on the sommelier,” she commented, trading in the almost brash rumble of her accent for the tilt of light Scottish lilt that seemed to keep the customers happy and the tips appearing.

“Nope, for once they know their wines and Dean has just got done setting up their selections for the meal.” James soothes her, an almost cheeky smile at the way she seems genuinely surprised. It tends to be she gets the well-paying but rough parties, namely because she can handle it - but still, it's nice to get a civilized group who won't be asking for fancy jaeger bombs by the end of the evening. “I'm working with Dean. Ooh, joy, he's always great banter during the downtime.” Ella spoke brightly, briefly giving him a one-armed hug “But you're by far my favorite of the night staff. Including myself.” she added with a soft laugh that was lost in the din of the bustling staff corridors.

Speaking of the devil, Dean popped into the back for another bottle of wine just as Ella was about to head through to behind the bar. “My favorite forest!” he greeted - a nickname that stuck early for the pair. Unfortunately.

As James made a beeline for the next fire to fight, even at this late hour, Ella followed Dean back behind the bar of one of the event spaces. Giving a nod to the server, the young waitress stepped towards the long table to inform them they could now place cocktail and spirit orders.

Dean leaned a hand, heaving up the ice buckets so he could lean close and bring her up to speed on the group “Local… politics, DA, upcoming lawyers, those sorts,” he summarized picking up on the barely raised brow that broke through her 'customer service face'. Thankfully, it remained in place for the most part as a shadow appeared across the bar, Ella stood quickly as she expected the young waitress.

Instead faced the vaguely tilted head of one of the guests and a gaze that felt like he was seeing into her d*mn soul. It took every ounce of composure for her not to shudder.

“What can I get you, sir?” she asked cheerily, watching as the accent landed and prompted the barest hint of a smile from him “I was going to ask about whiskeys, but it sounds like I should trust a recommendation.”

Ella didn't let her thoughts show on her face, as if everyone from Scotland was an expert in shortbread and booze, before turning to the section of wall behind her for spirits. Stretching to reach one from the top shelf, she spans a couple of ice cubes in the glass to cool it and leave just a trace of water before pouring a healthy measure “Small batch, single malt - Borough, though we're one of only two stockists in the city.” she informed him pleasantly, managing a small smile despite everything in her head screaming 'these are not good people, minimizes interaction, the tips aren't worth it.'

His gaze doesn't leave her as he takes a sip, apparently mulling it over before he gave an approving smile and saunters back to his seat, moving unhurriedly as he picked back up on the table's conversation.

Barely moving her lips as she fidgeted with the garnish trays, Ella kept her voice low as she caught Dean's slightly wide-eyed gaze “That look never means good things, what's wrong?” the sommelier shifted along the bar behind her. “Former dirty DA, now... crime boss who keeps his hands clean. Does a lot of business here.” Her comment carried on a breath and was loaded with sarcasm.

“Great…”

The night managed to go much the same, quite quiet for the sheer number of folk they had. Sure, there was the occasional ripple of raucous laughter, but it was mostly like any other event. Even when James appeared, checking in with the group, there wasn't much out of the ordinary. “Frank, a pleasure.” the former DA's voice rang out from the end of the table, fixing him with a level stare and easy attitude that the manager didn't react to. “Mister Stewart, we're pleased to have you with us again. I trust everything was to your satisfaction?” he enquires smoothly, ever the professional even as he notes the way the man's gaze flits behind him to the bar with a slow smile as he downs the last of his whiskey “As always, Frank. You've really got an eye for staff, I'll say that.”

There's a barely discernable tick in James's jaw as he smiles politely, “Well, a business is only as good as its staff.” he comments simply, a tone as if Clyde should be able to relate.

A slow nod of agreement as the bearded man gets to his feet steadily, James politely gesturing to the doors as the party leaves, most talking among themselves but Clyde content to hang back and speak with James as if they're old friends till the doors click shut behind them.

From just over her shoulder, Ella hears Dean release a breath, calling over the waitress to give pointers on where she could improve and the like - the poor thing only started a few weeks ago and they're already throwing her to flying solo at private functions, must be the day manager's idea of a joke. Though, if it continues this way, she should be fine - the night staff looks out for their own, so she'll learn quickly without someone biting her head off as a driving factor.

“Hey, kid,” the girl startles visibly as Ella speaks up, despite how soft the woman tries to keep her voice “You'll be okay. You handled it well, for a trial by fire.” at least the friendly smile Ella aims her way is returned with a noticeable easing of the waitress's shoulders as they finish clear up and return to the staff halls.

* * *

Later, Ella can be found just inside the staff door, obnoxiously twirling her car keys around a finger as she waits and says her goodnights to the leaving night staff. Finally, trailing behind the last of the night shift, comes James. “Ready? Wouldn't want to get stuck in that rush-hour traffic?” she jokes, earning an amused groan from her friend as he slings an arm around her shoulders with a heavy exhale that makes her surprised, he's not straight up leaning on her. “Yes, please. Let’s not top off a long night with traffic.”

It only happened because, despite offering her a place to crash, James started to feel bad about finding her curled on the sofa - a relic of the manners that had been drilled into him most likely. She'd lasted one night in his bed, despite his best efforts to hide the stiffness in his back from sleeping on the sofa, she'd noticed it on the drive to work. Noticed the way he winced ever so slightly when they hit a pothole.

It had made for an awkward conversation at the end of the shift - her near begging him to switch back, him stubbornly refusing to 'let the lady sleep on the sofa', till Ella reached the end of her patience. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, it's a damn king, there's plenty of room for both of us.” she'd huffed, folding her arms loosely as he approached her with a slight frown. Well, not quite a frown - she could read him like a book, he'd quite obviously got the wrong end of the stick, earning him a deadpan expression as she spoke dryly “Frank, relax, I'm not trying to fu