Page 66 of A Don & His Doll

“Certainly,” the waitress replied before walking away.

"If you had any Decorum, you'd choose your words a bit wiser when speaking to me."

"Choose my words, huh?" Macie repeated. "Well, let's see how well you can comprehend. My son ain't the one you wanna have a future with. You may think you can handle his lifestyle, but it comes with a lot more than women like you bargain for."

"Women like me?" Promise laughed lightly. "What you know about women like me? I'm thoroughly intrigued now."

"Here's your champagne. Can I start you with an appetizer?" The waitress asked.

"Not right now, but I'll get your attention when I'm ready," Promise answered with a smile, then took a slow sip from her champagne flute.

"Women like you think what's between your legs is enough to sustain a relationship, but jump ship when it's time to do more than fuck," Macie spat. "But," she leaned back. "I'd be less than who I am, not to warn you. You don't have a clue about who you're dealing with, beautiful."

Promise leaned her head to the side, then leaned forward. "I know you're busy tryna make me fear you, but it's hard to take you seriously when you got that big ass bugger hanging out of your nose," Promise said, then took another sip of champagne.

Macie immediately snatched the black linen cloth that her silverware was wrapped in, and covered her nose. Promise bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing hard and loud.

"I'm glad you think this shit is a joke. We gone see who laughs last though," Macie said, wiping her nose, then stuffing the cloth in her purse. "You need to walk away from my son and never look back."

Confirmation.

Promise didn’t need confirmation when it came to her discernment, but the threat Macie had just spat, made her grateful for not second-guessing herself. Macie didn’t know that Monroe had told her about the restaurant their family owned that was right next door to Bar Pitti, the consequences for Promise not adhering to Macie’s demands could’ve cost her life.

"I'ma say this to you once, 'cause I'm never gonna have this conversation with you again," Promise said, polishing off the rest of her champagne. "For starters, I'm not scared of your crazy ass. Secondly, I'm here because Monroe wants me to be. It's never gone be a day I take unsolicited advice from you concerning my personal life. How I use my pussy ain't your business, just know your son love this shit more than fucking air. But, more than that, we share something so sacred... something so divine that a demon like you can't help but stand on the sidelines, and be jealous about it," Promise unapologetically read Macie. "What I'm interested in knowing is how far you'd actually go to try sabotaging your son's relationships all because you're miserable."

Promise’s words landed harder than any slap ever could. Macie was so mad her blood pressure shot through the roof, and sweat began to slide down the side of her face.

"Aww, you look a little warm. You having a hot flash?” Promise asked rhetorically. “That's a damn shame how all that water coming out of you, and it still ain't enough to drench the flames from hell that's raging from your soul."

Macie felt her hands shaking, she wanted to shoot Promise so bad, but it wasn't the right time. She grabbed her wine, finishing it in one swallow.

"You don't know who the fuck you playin' with."

Promise smiled.

"No…I think I do."

"Fuck you," Macie said, standing. "I'll see you again...Sooner than you think, Bitch," Macie said, walking out of the restaurant. Her chauffeur was already waiting to grab the door for her.

"Would you like a refill, or the check?" the waitress asked.

"I'll take the check, please," Promise requested.

"Sure thing. Here you go," the waitress said, handing Promise the check.

"Here you go," Promise said, handing over her credit card.

Promise had been doing good, but she missed Monroe so bad it hurt. She hadn't been able to sleep right since the night he walked out of her house. Everywhere she went, everyone she spoke to... everything she encountered was a constant reminder of Monroe.

"Here's your card. I hope you enjoyed your champagne," the waiter said.

"Yes, I did. Thank you," Promise replied, placing her card back in her purse.

"You have a good night."

"Likewise," Promise said, rising from her seat, paging the valet to let them know she was ready for her car.

As she walked out and stood in front of Frankies Spuntino's, she noticed a black SUV pulling away, and another black car across the street. It was Monroe's trusted friend's G. Promise knew him because he was one of the few people who knew where Monroe lived. There were no words exchanged because they weren't needed... just a simple head nod before he drove off. It was at that moment that Promise knew that Monroe was still protecting her.