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She’s small and brunette, curvy in places with an ample pair of tits and has that exotic brown-eyed beauty of a native Sicilian —Attractive in a wifely, cosy girl next door kind of way. I’m not impressed much by her, and she’s dressed like an Italian peasant right out of a history book. I wonder if it’s the gimmick for this place.

Alexi is as he always is around adoring Carrero women, even though she is not one. Charming, warm and entertaining and seems to think touchy-feely is appropriate as she leans in for an awkward hug that lasts for a few seconds. I watch with a lack of amusement, gut aching a little while I battle the spiralling emotion rising in my stomach of my jealous bitch side clenching her claws into my soul. Bitterness has a horrible taste.

She ignores my presence, even when Alexi says my name mid foreign spew of words, and she barely glances my way. It’s not hard to tell she has a major thing for him and I lift my menu