The city was still asleep when Big Tony rolled his garbage truck down the empty streets, the engine's rumble echoing off the silent storefronts. The truck was his kingdom, a battered green beast with peeling paint and a cab that smelled of old coffee, sweat, and something indefinably sweet—like the memory of a carnival long gone. Tony, with his thick arms and tattooed knuckles, was a legend in the sanitation department, but not for his punctuality or his work ethic. No, Tony was infamous for his charm, his wicked grin, and the way he could make anyone—man, woman, or otherwise—feel like the only person in the world, even if just for a moment, in the cramped intimacy of his rolling palace of refuse.
This morning, as dawn painted the sky in streaks of orange and pink, Tony spotted his first conquest of the day: Maribel, the baker's assistant, lugging sacks of flour to the curb. She was small, fierce, and always wore her hair in a messy bun dusted with flour. Tony pulled up with a screech, hopped down, and flashed his signature grin."Need a hand, beautiful?" he asked, voice rough as gravel but warm as fresh bread.
Maribel rolled her eyes, but Tony saw the smile tugging at her lips. "You're late, Tony. The trash was supposed to be out an hour ago."
He shrugged, flexing his arms as he lifted the bags with ease. "Time's just a suggestion in my world. But I'm always on time for you."
She laughed, a sound that made Tony's heart skip. He tossed the bags into the compactor, then leaned in close, lowering his voice. "Ever see the city from the inside of a garbage truck?"
Maribel hesitated, glancing at the rising sun, the empty street, the promise of adventure in Tony's eyes. "Is that an invitation?"
Tony opened the passenger door with a flourish. "Only for the brave."
She climbed in, perching on the cracked vinyl seat, her laughter mingling with the scent of coffee and garbage. As Tony drove, he told stories—some true, some invented—about the treasures he'd found in the city's trash, the secrets people threw away. Maribel listened, eyes wide, her hand brushing his as the truck bounced over potholes.
By the time they reached the next stop, the city was waking up, but inside the cab, time stood still. Maribel leaned over, her lips brushing Tony's ear. "Maybe I'll bake you something special next time," she whispered.
Tony grinned, knowing this was only the beginning. The garbage truck rolled on, carrying with it the scent of possibility—and the promise of more forbidden romances to come.