The Italian's proposal

Chapter 4

Melody stood still watching the man in front of her, she had no idea that such specimens existed in real life. She was used to seeing them in vanity magazines, those magazines that only showcase rich and beautiful men, sheets and sheets of pure masculinity, wealth, and luxury. Men hand in hand with women who wore clothes more expensive than a car.

“Hello? Can you speak?” the man made her react with his heightened level of sarcasm. “Can I have my coffee now, or are you going to stare at me for ten more minutes? If it’s the latter, let me know so I can sit down.”

The man was irritating.

Was nothing in life perfect? Melody blinked a couple of times and watched as the man smiled.

With perfect, white teeth, typical of someone who exuded so much power and money.

“Your coffee will come out when I’m done with the others,” Melody turned back to the machine and waited for the small shot of coffee.

She had to call Doyle back to get a technician, otherwise they were going to lose customers.

The coffee shop had a lot of regular customers, the kind you could tell just by looking at them, they were repeat customers, old men visiting old Doyle’s business.

“Are you always this annoying?”

“Whenever a man because he has money wants to walk past those already on shift.”

The customers still at the bar looked from one to the other, as if it were a fight.

Although Melody was awfully close to going over the giant’s head with a demolisher.

She smiled at her own wild thought.

“Great. Now she’s laughing to herself,” the man spoke again, and Melody couldn’t ignore him.

It was automatic with her; she always had an answer for everything. That’s why she’d had so much trouble with her parents. She’d been a talkative teenager.

“I laugh at your pushiness.” It wasn’t true, but at least she could still incentivize the man to get upset.

The Mr. Money, for some reason irritated her son immensely, and if the saying that who you hate in pregnancy, like him your child will turn out, would that be true, for Melody would love for her son to have those beautiful eyes.

She delivered the last of the coffees and packed up the order of butter rolls and muffins and dispatched two of the customers at the counter.

“I did not come with arrogance. You, young lady halfway through puberty, you’ve put me in this mood,” he squinted, and Melody watched as tiny wrinkles set in the corners of his eyes.

Melody’s life was based on going back and forth from work to home, if anything going to the supermarket or pharmacy for a pill for her puking, which had never worked out for her, and yet she kept shopping for them in hopes to stop expelling everything that touched her stomach, there were times when food didn’t even make it to her stomach, it just came back up from her throat.

So, when that Mr. Money walked into the cafeteria, Melody had unconsciously decided to have some fun at his expense and in the process, refresh her eyesight.

“I’m not a young girl halfway through puberty,” she refuted, pouring his coffee.

The chauffeur or bodyguard, or ass licker, whatever, was still standing behind the rich guy watching the door, as if a war were going to break out at any moment, it would be funny to see a pregnant Melody hitting the rich guy with a butter bun.

“That’s what it looks like. Can I have my coffee now? If you keep looking at it like that, it’s highly likely to explode on you.”

“I’ve been dealing with this stuff for a while. I’m not going to let you...”

Just as she finished the sentence, as she handed him the coffee, Melody felt a cramp in her belly, and automatically dropped the coffee to grab where it hurt.

fell on the bar, splashing everything around her including

with you, crazy bitch? You’ve ruined my shirt! I have a meeting in less

at the moment, all she could do was think that she was going to die from the pain, that she could lose

driver spoke to the man, worried, and upset. She could determine those

walked over to the cream-colored phone hanging on the wall, it wouldn’t dial calls outside the coffee shop and the only number she could

her boss to answer, while the man cursed in what she

been through, she couldn’t believe she was going to lose her son, she was getting nervous, she could feel the cold sweat coming down her forehead and the Italian behind her didn’t help. The

out the air when she heard

me,” she

wrong? Too many

generate in a hurry, shifting her weight from one foot

the lurch. I need you down there...” As Doyle talked about commitments and responsibilities, Melody took a deep breath, letting the air

longer in pain, no more than a menstrual pain normally hurts, but, still, she wasn’t going to neglect herself and stand there, not knowing if her son was all

kept in contact with was her older sister, the only one who since she had left, had called her twice concerned

“Listen to me! I need a cab, call a cab company... or I don’t know... I have to

even harder than she could have imagined, and tears immediately welled up in her eyes.

a hand on her shoulder and looked back, still holding the phone

“I’ll take you.”

the Italian.

“No,” she said.

with you? Hold on, I’ll be right down. Don’t go away.”

call and Melody placed the phone on the wall.

man said again, his eyes were bright, darker, and Melody had the luxury of thinking they were the prettiest eyes that

must be worth a fortune; one she didn’t have the money to pay for. “Oh, gosh! I ruined

doesn’t matter,” he said taking the weight off what happened. “You seem

you on that. You

cancel it right

gone from being a despicable man, to becoming a

to throw her out of his car while it was

call Bruce and tell him I’ll be late. Have them go to work without me.” The driver/assistant made the requested call and nodded when all was affirmative

you that I accepted. I’m not going with you to the hospital. I don’t know you at all. I don’t know who you are. I appreciate the offer

non-stop?” he asks interrupting her and smiling

a

you do have, but a red ball

blouse stained with coffee droplets, which had splashed

“Great.”

drops of coffee are nothing compared to my shirt. Don’t make a big deal out

to her

of coffee on her blouse. She didn’t know what was worse, crying over it thanks to the pregnancy hormones that were driving her insane, or having the

What are we waiting to go? Look I’ve already cancelled my meeting for you. The least you can do

remember what the hell the driver/assistant had called him when he arrived. A name like díaneto

on the door rang and Doyle

what the hell is...?” Doyle let the question hang in the air as his gaze fell on the Italian, Melody watched as his expression

she exclaimed

Now if you don’t mind. You can tell her to let me take her to the hospital. Apparently, she’s

am pregnant,” Melody emphasized every word. The man had

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