Page 11 of Assistant to the Mafia

“What was that? Are you all right? Fuck, it’s pitch-black outside already, is security walking you to your car?”

Grace pushed out a breath and scooped up her bag. “I’m fine. I just dropped my bag, that’s all.” She didn’t understand why he was saying any of these things. He sounded downright protective. No one had talked that way regarding her … ever. She barely stopped the elevator from closing on her and definitely didn’t feel like she’d caught her breath when she forced herself to more properly respond as she stepped out into the chilly underground garage. “Please don’t worry. I’m used to this routine, it’s not a big deal. I promise I really am fine.” She almost thanked him for his concern, but bit the words back.

Just in case she was misinterpreting.

“I love my brother,” Romeo said, “but working for him can’t be so great that you want to live there. You need boundaries.”

Grace pulled her weighted down arm closer to herself as the evening chill wafted up her skirt and into her bones. She looked around out of habit, then started straight toward her car. The garage was lit, of course, so it wasn’t like she couldn’t see. “I have boundaries. I am also very well compensated for the time I dedicate to my job, as you know.” She drew a breath and set her work bag on the trunk of her car in order to fish her keys from her purse. “I appreciate your concern, but it’s unnecessary. I have everything under control.”

He made a displeased sound. “Right. Just … don’t forget to take care of yourself, Grace. That’s important, too.”

She toggled the engine from the remote, hoping to get the heater at least engaged a little early, and went about setting her bags in the backseat. “I will remember that.”

Romeo was quiet for a second. “I’ll let you go, then. Goodnight, Grace. Get some rest.”

Why did her heart flutter like that at such simple words? She held herself still at the driver’s side door. “Goodnight…” Before she could work herself up to whisper his name like he was always pushing for, the line disconnected. A flicker of disappointment doused her inappropriate excitement, but it was for the best.

That seemed like the theme of her day, at least where Romeo was concerned.

She drove home in silence, not even bothering to turn on the radio. She checked her car with the evening valet, detoured by the mail, and rode the building’s elevator up to her twenty-first-floor apartment. The elevator stopped on the eighteenth floor, letting a male in nice-enough casual clothes step on. He was unfamiliar, but that wasn’t strange. Grace only knew, or knew of, a handful of her fellow residents—amusingly, that included another of Dante De Salvo’s employees.

The man, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, looked over at her curiously. “Workin’ late?”

She smiled tiredly. “Yep.” She did love her job, but she wasn’t so fond of chatting senselessly with strangers. Particularly in sequestered situations with limited ways out, like in an elevator. And frankly, everyone who lived in this building had money enough to be cautious. She wasn’t obscenely wealthy, but she wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck, either.

He turned to lean sideways on the wide banister, facing her wholly. “You got a guy? Or a lady, I don’t judge.”

Her smile faltered. “How is any part of my status your business?”

He whistled. “C’mon, lady. I was just thinkin’ we could have some fun if you were free.”

Grace narrowed her eyes at him as the elevator came to a stop. “I’m not available. Or interested.” She pulled her bag closer. “Have a good evening.” She half expected him to try and stop her, but she felt only his eyes on her as she slipped by and out of the confinement of the elevator.

She was locked inside her apartment less than a minute later, the alarm reset, and finally she was able to set down her armload and divest herself of her outer coat. Then it was back to routine. Unpacking what she needed for the night or needed to clean and reuse, changing into something more comfortable and allowing herself a limited stretch of time to relax before falling into bed.

Her mind returned to thoughts of Romeo as she drifted slowly to sleep, settling on the memory of his lips pressing against hers.

The ringing of her phone jerked her awake sometime later and Grace fumbled in the dark, latching onto the device before she’d even sat up. It was still late, no light whatsoever seeping in around her bedroom curtain, and panic gripped her. What sort of disaster could have unfolded that someone was actually calling at this hour?

But then she saw the name on the screen, and every scenario racing through her half-asleep brain screeched to a halt. This wasn’t a work call. It was the front desk.

Breathless with a new kind of concern, Grace brought the phone to her ear. “Hello? Sean?” It was after two in the morning, his shift would be well underway.

Something like a rasp preceded his voice, strained in a way that made it almost unfamiliar. “Ms. Mariner,” Sean said, “y-you have to … get out…”

Grace tossed her comforter aside and shifted the phone to her other ear, smacking her hand around until light pierced the room. As if a little golden glow would help her understand. “What? What are you saying? Sean, what’s going on?”

He coughed, or made a choking sound, and she almost missed another sound in the background of the call. Something she couldn’t make out. “They took—” He sucked in a distinctly wet breath. “Your key. I’m s-sorry … you have to hur—”

“Who the hell’re you talkin’ to, old man?” The voice that talked over Sean was somewhat garbled and distant, but definitely male and agitated. “On the fuckin’ phone?”

Grace opened her mouth, her heart hammering. “Sean—”

An explosion burst in her ear and she shrieked, instinctively clapping a hand over her mouth. But the line was still open and she felt too frazzled to comprehend what was happening. She felt like she could barely breathe.

Until the phone on Sean’s end seemed to jostle, rustling, and male snickering traveled through. “See you soon.” The line clicked a beat later.

Grace lowered her phone, running that nightmare-like conversation through her mind again as she attempted to catch her breath. And maybe get her ear to stop ringing. What was that?

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