A MERRY MAFIA CHRISTMAS (GxG)

XII

My Christmas List: December 5th
Please make Armani less likable. 

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When the elevator dinged and footsteps pattered down the hall, Armani and I broke our eyes away from one another, seeing Dominico standing at the doorway to the living area. 

"Am I interrupting something?" Dominico asked, his amused dark eyes darting between us.

I looked down, shaking my head. "No... I actually have some things to handle downstairs," I said, knowing I needed a breather. 

As a mafia boss, Armani should seriously be less likable than she is. 

I grabbed my blazer, walking down the hall to catch the elevator. I kept replaying what Armani said and how she said, snippets of our conversation looping in my head. 

"You have nothing to worry about."
"I don't want to argue with you."

Even after adjusting to being here, I have no idea what the dynamic is between Armani and me. Or maybe the dynamic is there and I'm trying to read into it—playing into something more. 

I got onto the elevator, heading down to level one where I knew the kitchen was. I didn't know what I was planning to do, but I knew cooking would at least help distract me—even if I couldn't understand the name of the Italian ingredients. 

I sighed as I exited the elevator into the main entrance, or maybe cooking would only remind me of Armani. Someone who previously cooked for me. 

I stuck with my instinct, knowing that was the first thing I thought about, and wanted to do. Besides, I don't know what else I could possibly do other than work—which for the first time in a while, I really didn't feel like it. 

I walked into the pantry, looking for ingredients. What was something easy I could make? Maybe I could make some kind of dessert... like cookies? Or maybe pastries? That would be easier than making a full-on dish, and the ingredients would be easier to find. 

My thoughts were halted when I heard rustling toward the back corner of the large pantry. I furrowed my brows, confused that anyone was in here. Most of the chefs cook in the chef's kitchen where there's another pantry. 

I cautiously turned around fully walking to the back of the pantry, hearing the rustling stop for a moment. I passed the shelf that was blocking my view fully, seeing a small tanned girl with caramel curls. She was dressed in a pastel yellow sweater with black pants and combat boots. What I noticed very quickly was that her face was smeared with chocolate, looking guilty of doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing. 

I smiled, finding her entirely cute. 

"This isn't what it looks like," she said, sliding the jar of Nutella back on the shelf along with the container of cookies. 

She looked like she was maybe five or six.

"Oh, totally," I said, deciding to play along, which caused a smile to grow on her face. "You like cookies?" 

The little girl nodded quickly, "My mommy says I shouldn't eat too many or I'll get a stomach ache," she said, walking over to me. "You won't tell her?" 

I raised a brow, "Tell her what? You were just walking around in here totally not eating cookies with Nutella." 

The small girl laughed and I felt my heart swell at how cute she was. I never saw myself as a kid person, or even wanting to have kids, but this little girl seemed entirely too cute to not talk to.