Page 34 of Rescued By the Mafia

The side door was opened for them by Benny, the colleague who’d told her about the problem with her tires. “Hey, Ern—” His expression faltered as his gaze landed on her. “Iris?”

She raised her hand to wave at the man, but any words she might have said were forgotten by Ernesto’s faster reply.

“The boss won’t appreciate you addressing her by name, Benito. Put a little more respect into your words.”

Benny looked between them with visible confusion.

Iris came to a stop, just inside the doorway now, and faced him. “Benny, thank you for warning me about my car before. You probably saved me from something way worse.” Her car that was—she didn’t want to think about what or where it was, actually. But she believed what she’d said. She offered him a small smile, then continued inside.

It was hard to miss the stares that came her way as they navigated the short distance between the employee entrance and Aurelio’s office. She was glad they stayed off the dining floor, but she also figured that increased the odds of being seen by family. Seen, and talked about, of course. Once upon a time, she’d hated being whispered about behind her back. Until she’d learned there were worse things than neglect and idle gossip. She just hoped whatever gossip inevitably spread after this visit wouldn’t upset Dante.

Ernesto didn’t let her into Aurelio’s office until he’d verified no one else was inside, then held the door wide for her. Carlo shut it behind him and stood with his back to it.

Aurelio made a very similar face as Benny had as he looked around the room, but he composed himself faster. “Iris…?”

“You’ll address her as ‘Ms. Jayne’ or ‘Ma’am’ moving forward,” Ernesto said.

Iris bit back a sigh and stepped up between the cushioned chairs that faced Aurelio’s desk. “Sorry if this is weird. I’m just here to pick up that check, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

Aurelio nodded and reached for a drawer, extracting a printed paycheck. “It’s not much, of course,” he said as he held it out.

“I understand,” Iris said. Guilt flared inside her. She felt bad for wasting the restaurant’s time training her, only to wind up working one shift. But I never would have met Dante if I hadn’t worked here. She couldn’t feel bad about that. She looked down at the check in her hand and pushed the guilt aside. The check was for less than one hundred dollars, which was to be expected.

The number on the bank statement flashed through her mind and Iris had a momentary urge to shove the check back at Aurelio. It felt stupid to take this comparable pittance, especially considering who it ultimately came from. But she resisted, and a new idea came to her as she tucked the paper away.

She had been so bored since Dante left for work, alone in that massive house with too much on her mind to simply settle. And he was right, she didn’t need to work anymore. For as much as she enjoyed Megan’s company, the craft store itself didn’t thrill her, so Iris wouldn’t lose sleep if their friendship changed venues. Presuming Megan picked up the phone the next time Iris called. None of that meant Iris couldn’t contribute in some other way, though. So she vowed to put the few dollars she’d just earned toward a brand-new venture. One that was hers. One that … gave her something, as Dante kept saying.

She just didn’t know what that venture would be quite yet.

Ernesto came to an abrupt halt not two feet past the same exterior door they had come through five minutes previously. He raised one hand in a sharp motion and Carlo rested the tips of his fingers on Iris’s shoulder. No one had explained signals to her, but she felt certain she understood. Something was wrong and she was being asked not to continue ahead.

“Whoever you are, step away from that car,” Ernesto said. His voice had taken a cold, hard edge he hadn’t used when he’d spoken with Iris and it gave her an unexpected perspective. A perspective she would rather not have gained, if her fear was valid.

“No need to be hostile, friend. I was just admiring.”

Iris grabbed hold of the strap of her purse. She knew that voice. It wasn’t Paul—for which she was grateful—but it was someone she knew from her past. And there was no one from her life before Newark that she had interest in seeing again, let alone being ambushed by.

Carlo moved up to her side, perhaps the length of a hand between his elbow and hers. “The front entrance is on the north side, pal,” he said. “If you’ve got a reservation, go in through there.”

The voice from her past laughed briefly, as if he weren’t even nervous. “Nah, no way I could afford to eat at a place like this. You two mind stepping aside? I was hopin’ to have a word with Iris.”

“We mind,” Ernesto said.

Iris felt her throat constrict. She unlatched her fingers from her purse, which wouldn’t do her any good, and reached out to hook her fingers into Carlo’s sleeve. Words might have gotten his attention also, but she needed to save her strength for the more important ones.

Carlo turned his head toward her and lowered his voice. “Ma’am?”

“That’s Mark,” she whispered, hearing the shake in her own voice. “He works … with Paul. He’s a deputy, where I’m from.” She should have been more specific, but she swore she could smell smoke all of a sudden and she wanted to run. To flee. Mark had never laid a hand on her, or even indicated that he was aware of Paul’s abuse, but he was Paul’s friend. And now he was here, in front of her, far from his jurisdiction. The day after Paul had blown up her car.

Carlo nodded and faced forward. “If you don’t have a reservation, then get the fuck off the property. Ms. Jayne has nothing to say to you.” He paused for exactly three seconds and lowered his voice only slightly. “I’m taking her inside.”

Ernesto didn’t move. “Take her to Norberto.”

“Ah, no,” Mark said. “It’s important I speak to—”

Ernesto extended one arm. “We will remove you by force. This is your last warning.”

“That wouldn’t be smart, man.” Mark paused. “I’m a deputy sheriff.”

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