Romo's Restaurant Novels & Stories

Buskers were strumming guitars beside a fountain, children were kicking a football against an ancient brick wall, and the air was thick with the intoxicating scent of garlic, roasted tomatoes, and fresh bread. Adrian would have had a panic attack just looking at the lack of hand sanitizer in the vicinity. Romeo confidently placed his hand on the small of my back—not pushing, just guiding—and steered me toward a lively, overflowing restaurant with mismatched wooden tables spilling out onto the sidewalk. “Dr. Rossi!” A massive man in a flour-dusted apron practically bulldozed his way through the crowded patio, throwing his arms wide. “You haven’t visited us in months! I was beginning to think

“But hands are the best part!” Luca smirked. “He’s got a point.” Sienna gave him a look. “Do not encourage them.” They finally settled on a small Italian restaurant nearby, one where the owners knew Luca personally. As soon as they walked in, Mr. Romano—the owner—greeted them warmly. “Ah, Russo! And his beautiful family!” Matteo and Alessandro beamed. “Hi, Mr. Romano!” Romano grinned. “I assume you two want extra garlic bread?”

Two friendly smiling women enter the room. "Mr Romero, Miss Lori, welcome to our restaurant. We have an extensive menu with three different types of dishes. You can enter your order digitally and we will be happy to serve you". Without looking at the woman, my partner here nods. The women then leave the room to give us some privacy. Romero hands me the iPad and I read the menus for Italian, Chinese and Indian cuisine. All three are impressive, the pictures definitely whet my appetite. "Have you decided yet, love?" asks Romero, his eyes fixed on the menu.

She took it, her fingers small and warm against my calloused palm. "This is a private restaurant," I told her as we walked through the green door. "The owner owes my family a favor. No one will bother us here." The inside of the restaurant was small and dimly lit by yellow lamps. There were only four tables, and three of them were empty. An old man with a white apron bowed deeply when he saw me. "Don Romano," the old man said. "It is an honor. Your table is ready in the back." We walked to a corner table next to a small brick archway. I pulled out a chair for Rosalina with my right hand, and she sat down, looking around the room with wide eyes.

He asked and turned back into the house. “You look a mess, boss.” Martino said as Rio walked to the couch and slumped on it. “What do you want?” Rio repeated, this time with irritation. Martino’s eyes surveyed the room, it was littered, with wraps of ordered food flying around. “Boss?” He called as Rio narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t have time for this, Martino.” “Is this about Mr Romano’s….” Martino stopped talking when Rio raised his head to look at him, casting him a glare.

he said, taking a sip from his drink. “Other than the fact that it’s disgusting? Everything!” Romano stared at me expressionless for a minute before shoveling another spoonful of risotto into his mouth. “Spend three years in prison, and you’d appreciate good food,” he said flatly. “It’s not supposed to have good food—it’s prison,” I shot back. “Take me to an In-N-Out. You have those here in Italy, right?” He gave me a confused look before turning away, seeming to wrestle with an internal debate. I followed his eyes, but there was no one there.

“We’ll grab takeout. It’s quick.” Emma nodded. “Yes, please. Popcorn is not dinner.” The restaurant was cozy and casual, the smell of garlic and spices wrapping around us the second we stepped inside. Roman ordered for all of us, pasta for me, steak for himself, something lighter for Emma, and added breadsticks without even asking. “You’re the best,” Emma said, sounding genuinely surprised. While we waited, we stood off to the side, talking about the movie, arguing over which part made no sense, laughing about the ridiculous stunts. To my surprise, Roman and Emma fell into conversation easily, like they’d known each other longer than they actually had.

He gestured toward the empty seats. “I’m happy that the table is always full these days.” Rome pulled out a chair for me before sitting beside me. “What’s the special occasion?” King Osiris continued casually as he picked up his fork. He smiled as he glanced around the table. He took a bite of food. “I love this kind of atmosphere.” I looked around the table nervously. My hands rested quietly on the table, but my fingers were tightly clasped together. Rome must have noticed because his hand slipped under the table and gently took mine. His thumb brushed against the back of my hand reassuringly.

We sat down at the table. "Dig in. You can have seconds if you want." I didn't realise I was hungry until my stomach began to growl, which made me feel embarrassed. I broke the chopsticks in half, thus holding them in my joined palm, and said, "Itadakimasu! (Thanks for the food!)". Subaru did the same, and we began to eat. After an hour or so, we were done having our breakfast. "Wow! I had no idea you were such a good cook!"

He said in a normal way. "How do you even know me? We never even talk and if we do talk.. I bet we will end up arguing." I said. "You can use it incase there's an emergency." He said and I nodded. The air stewardess started to serve us food and yes I'm dying to eat because I starved myself yesterday so I can fit into my wedding dress. "Can I have the steak again?" I asked the air stewardess. "Sure, Mrs. Romeo." She smiled as she took away my plate. Suddenly Deandre put his plate of steak in front of me. I turned to him and he's busy eating his salad. I shrugged and started to dig in.