All Chapters of The mobster and the writer: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

-G.- I whispered angrily.- Don't take my food.- You can eat mine, sweetie- He pointed with his knife at a chicken fillet with cheese sauce. I almost drool over how good it looked. I sighed. Pasta or chicken. A difficult decision.- I'm not going to change it. I said share- He rolled his eyes and cut a piece of chicken that soon shoved it into my mouth. I was going to tell him that it wasn't a baby I could feed, but the cheese touched my taste buds and I was about to die on the spot. I closed my eyes and enjoyed that flavor that was a clear example of what the clouds in the sky knew. A finger pressed against my nose, pulling me out of my beautiful dreams of angels and cheese platters. I opened my eyes and found the idiot looking at me amused. Insensitive idiot. Didn't he know how to enjoy the food of the Olympian gods? He looks like a god, so you should like him - said my inner being. What? I

To say that mafia life is not boring is to have no idea. Surely the "rank and file soldiers", as I call them, have action and all those dangerous tasks that come to mind when we think of the term "mafia". The problem is that not everyone in that world is “private”. I certainly wasn't. I was the "prisoner-guest." I had been practically locked in my room for a week and except for visits from Cami and G, I was alone. At least I had my laptop to write and not go crazy. The positive part of my isolation is that I made a lot of progress in the new novel. My imagination, which previously seemed stunted, was now fired. The latest romantic incident (or whatever it was) with G had given me a needed push. The negative side of my loneliness: I was starting to go crazy.I have always liked to talk. I have studied many languages because of the need to express myself. I like meeting people and talking about anything. I need people in my life. I need company and locked up the onl

I sat down on Hunter's couch and my heart decided to go back to beating as usual. She hated being tense, but these past weeks she'd had more than enough excuse. Surely after this, he was going to have heart problems. I signed up on my mental note blog to go for a doctor checkup. I would have to make an appointment. A finger touched my forehead and I jumped.Hunter was in front of me while I was head over heels. It used to happen to me. I was easily blank. I smiled at him a little. I didn't understand how I could have behaved so badly with him before with how nice he was. And handsome. Remember how handsome he was. I sighed. It was the prototype Calvin Klein model. He smiled back at me a little wider than mine.- What is that little head of yours thinking about?- He sat next to me, too close for my liking.-I would like to know you better.- My big mouth made an appearance again.- I mean that after what I thought better of before. I am an idiot. I should have list

He dragged me to his car, a shiny sports Ferrari. You could tell he did not like to attract attention. I helped him put things in the trunk and got into the passenger seat. Before I could close the door, he did it for me.Once inside he put his sunglasses on me and covered my head with a black cap. Surely the paparazzi didn't recognize me like that. G acted like we were famous. I laughed softly, and he listened to me because he always did. He turned on the radio, changing stations until Eminem filled the silence. His musical tastes matched mine. I sang in tandem with the rapper, earning several funny looks from my crazy date. It mattered little to me. Rather, I raised the tone until I and my failures were heard more than Eminem himself. I know, I shouldn't spoil your songs with my pokey voice, but what can I say? Life is very short and I am not going to waste it quietly when I can raise my voice all I want. Maybe not that much either, because G might get tired of

Time alone passed more slowly than with the idiot next to her. I spent my time trying to make him a good meal, not what he made the other day that was inedible. I was still gagging from the steak. I shuddered to relive that again. The last time I ate meat cooked by him. I pursed my lips in an attempt to think, but every time I tried, G came back to my mind, but this time in objectionable thoughts.I opened the drawers and the refrigerator to distract myself. There were tomato, minced meat, and cheese and in a cupboard, I found plates of lasagna. The food was already fixed. I took my cell phone and turned on the music. The funniest thing about cooking was music. He made the task be done with more love and affection and that in the end, the food was richer. I had it checked. My mother never understood why she made mistakes at lunchtime and it was for this reason.Can't Help Falling in love flooded the entire kitchen. It was the version sung by Christina Grimmie on vocals