Broken Hearts On Boulevard Unirii novel Chapter 14

Without turning around, she whispered back to me, "You're such a nice companion."

I grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her to my chest. I looked at her exposed white neck and I bent down to bite it like a vampire.

"Have you been influenced by Dracula?" She laughingly said and pushed me away.

As the castle was full of tourists, we walked together holding hands so that we didn't get separated and lost. We walked through the castle from one room to the next; it seemed as if there was no end to the rooms. Each room was majestically furnished with heavy antique furniture, centuries old, carpets covering the floors , oil paintings displaying beautiful landscapes in ornate heavy wooden frames hanging on the walls. There was a mysterious and authentic atmosphere to the place. Our visit to the castle ended in the courtyard alongside the stables, where we met our hungry friends who were waiting for us.

"Let's go eat mic[Romanian meatballs]," suggested Angelo. The girls grimaced at that suggestion.

"So what you want to eat?" Angelo asked.

"Maybe we'll go into Poiana Brasov," suggested Mihaela. 'There are many restaurants there."

"What about the others? Should they stay in the hotel without us?" I asked.

"Yes, they wanted to stay behind, let them look after themselves."

We got into our respective cars and left. When we arrived at Poiana Brasov, we found a parking space in the center of town, where there were stalls selling various souvenirs and drinks. When we crossed the street, we found ourselves in the most beautiful part of the district where all the fancy restaurants were located.

Angelo went looking for a certain Italian restaurant where he had eaten a few years ago. He could not remember the name of the restaurant but did remember that it was in this area. We walked around the area like a top spinning on its axis, always returning to the starting point.

I finally saw an Italian restaurant that looked decent, so we went there. It was not the one Angelo knew, but it looked respectable and the prices seemed quite reasonable.

We entered the restaurant and sat down around a large table for eight, which had a small placard on it that read "Reserved." All the tables around us were empty, but all seemed to be reserved. In the corner of restaurant, one table was occupied by a couple enjoying their dinner.

The waiter came over to us and asked, "Do you have a reservation?"

"Sure," Angelo answered.

"Under what name is the reservation?" the waiter asked.

"Dr. Valeri Popescu, from the psychiatric hospital in Bucharest," Angelo answered without any hesitation.

The waiter went to check and came back a moment later and said, "We don't have any reservation from that person."

"So why did you order the dish?" Mihaela asked.

"Because this dish should not be made with chicken," I answered.

So that the girls wouldn't get offended, Angelo intervened and said, "Giorgio, in Romania this dish is made with chicken."

"That is not true," I protested. "I once ate this dish at an Italian restaurant in Bucharest and it was made with pancetta. Besides, this is nothing but soup with soft disgusting pasta."

The girls turned their heads towards me and looked at me as if in shock.

Silvia suddenly raised her voice and said, "You spoiled buongustaio[gourmet, foodie]. This is Romania, and here we are used to eating crap. For fifty years Ceausescu has taught us to eat crap. Our motto is, "If it does not smell, it is eatable."

Angelo interjected and said, "Enough, he just doesn't like it, and that's it. Besides he is the one paying for the meal, so what do you care if he eats or not."

I drank the beer and to my astonishment although it was unfamiliar to me, it tasted rather good.