Vincent at work (afterschool, Mon)

[Cres]

Vincent was rather enjoying himself so far. The owners of the place were nice and in the evenings he'd get to work in a club that was more to his liking. Well, Vincent didn't really have anything against this kind of a quiet refuge at times, but he wanted more action for his evenings. Maybe he'd even pick up a girl or two at the club.

Yeah, two sounded just about right. He was anxious in general to explore the social surroundings of this new hometown of his, happy to have left his old home behind him. Now was the beginning of a new life for him, and he was intending to make the most of it. He planned on hooking up with Chip and Dan later.

And maybe that Dan's little sister. He licked his lips as he thought of her. Such a sweet bun she was. And he boasted with getting a kiss out of her. Well, she'd been surprised and eventually slapped him for it, but it still counted. He was astonished no one had plucked her yet, such a ripe peach as she was. Maybe the shy little girl thing fooled them.

He was lost in his thoughts on girls as he continued wiping the tables clean. It was closing in on the end of his shift, he'd have a few hours to spare in the afternoon before his evening shift at the club.

[Cres]

Carina came out from the kitchen, carrying two pizzas in her hands. Vincent's eye caught her as she made her way around the tables to the corner table where a large family - the only guests of the place at the moment - were waiting for their order. He smiled appreciatively. Now, there was another cute little thing that everyone was neglecting for some reason.

Carina knew Vincent was looking at her. She didn't much care for the young man, but her father had hired him so she had to endure him nevertheless. After handing over the pizzas - with a sweet smile like she was supposed to - she turned and walked towards another table that needed some cleaning.

Vincent smirked and flapped the towel over his shoulder. In his languid, cool way he approached the girl.

"Hey, Cara, my baby," he said with his broad Italian accent, leaning on the side of the booth with one hand, his other hooked on the belt of his trousers. "What's up?"

The girl glanced over her shoulder to him, eying him up and down before turning her attention back to the table she was cleaning.

"Vincenzo," she said, using the Italian equivalent of his name and her rather pronounced Italian accent, as usual, "il mio caro, don't bother me while I work, eh?"

Vincent was not phased a bit by her obvious sarcasm, calling him her darling like he had called her his baby. Fair enough, so she didn't like him using her pet name. Still, he refused to give it up. There had got to be a heart beating somewhere down deep inside that cold exterior.

"Aww, Cara," he said, "give me a chance, huh? Hey, our shift will end soon, we can be out the door and off for some fun, what you say? Come on, I'll buy you flowers."

Cara threw a smirk over her shoulder at him.

"Take them to your mama," she suggested. "And weren't you working tonight, anyway?"

He shrugged.

"I've got a few hours in between," he said, still hopeful. "We could catch a flick, what you say?"

Cara laughed and wiped off the last bit of crumbs from the table before moving on to the next table.

"I don't think so, Vincenzo, baby," she threw back over her shoulder. "I've got no money, and as far as I've heard, neither do you."

Vinnie's ears grew a little hot and he walked to her, taking her by the arm.

"Look, I can afford to take care of my women," he said huffily, shoving his hand nearly to her face as he moved it in rhythm of his speech. "And if anyone says otherwise, tell me who, and I'll go an smash their heads in. Coz I ain't no loser, you hear me, Carina? I ain't no loser."

She wasn't really scared for his strong reaction, she was used to such outbursts with one of her brothers, who was quite a hothead, but she didn't like him talking to her like that. She drew back her hand, tearing it off from his grip, and stared at him with her deep indigo eyes.

"Look yourself, Vinnie," she said stiffly. "I don't care if you've got money or not. I ain't going with you, and that's it. Go finish your tables, eh? You can use that couple of hours on finding yourself a girl somewhere."

Vincent let go of her, trying to calm himself down. He was all too aware that they were making a scene, and soon Papa Capriccio would come asking if he was hurting his daughter. So he put up a smile and nodded.

"Alright, alright, babe," he said, back into his cool self, raising his hands. "I just thought you might want to have some fun. But all right. I'll find someone else." He winked. "And don't you worry, there are always plenty of volunteers around."

She tossed her hair and paid no more heed to him. But as he returned to his table, she watched him go from the corner of her eye. She had to admit, of course, that he was handsome and that he had a certain... style to him, which was appealing. And Italian guys didn't precisely grow on trees around these parts. She knew her father would be asking every evening how did she like Vincent. That would be a fine Italian boy for her to marry, he'd say. A fine old stock, he'd say. With good connections, he'd say.

And she'd remind him that the boy was a waiter, without education and without prospects. But his father would just shrug and tell her he was young. He had time.

She sighed. She wasn't herself especially picky about religion and family connections, but her father was. She wondered if he'd ever let her marry a Protestant. Or a Protestant and a Brit, even worse. That thought made her nearly giggle out loud. She had trouble picturing herself with a Brit.

[Cres]

After wiping a few more tables, Vincent left the pizza place. He had a few hours to kill before going to his evening job.

[[cont. in the club since he didn't really do anything important meanwhile]]