Page 4 of Assistant to the Mafia

Romeo flashed a grin to his brother. “We have to pull someone from their post.”

“That’s not why you’re asking, and the answer’s no. You know that.”

Damn him and his observational skills, anyway. But Romeo played it off. “You say that like I’d hurt her. I’m not an asshole.”

Dante narrowed his eyes in silent warning. “It’s important the business stays clean, Romeo. Keeping Grace blind is a big part of that. So whatever it is that’s piqued your interest where she’s concerned, fucking bury it. I’m not interested in retraining an assistant, let alone at the same time as you.”

Romeo made a dismissive gesture. “Fine, fine. I’ll at least concede the timing does suck.” He paused and let himself grin. “But what if you did share? Until I get my own, of course.”

“Romeo.”

He chuckled. “Assistants, you pervert. I need one, and yours is indisputably amazing, remember?”

Dante leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. “Today, that’s probably what we’ll have to do. Just watch yourself.”

Romeo stood. He knew when he was pushing his limits. “It’s not like I’ve never worked with her before, brother. Relax.” Granted, the entire time Dante had been out of town for his honeymoon and Romeo had essentially been running the ship alongside Grace he’d gone home with blue balls every day. But he’d managed to endure without crossing the line. If he’d survived that, when no one was actually around to stop him, he could behave under supervision. “I’ll just go back to my corner and wait for my turn,” he added before letting himself out of the office.

Grace looked up from whatever she was typing as he drew near. That soft smile she always blessed him with lifted her lips moments before she said, “Good morning, Mr. De Salvo.”

Romeo tucked his hands into his pants pockets and forced his expression to remain neutral. “Not so sure about that ‘good’ part.” He tipped his head. “Hope yours is going better, Grace.” He’d let Dante explain her unfortunate workload increase, if she hadn’t already guessed it, and continued on his way. Stopping and chatting wasn’t going to win his larger argument.

He strode at a casual pace down the hall and all the way across to his proverbial wing of the upper floor, where he came to a stop. Given that his ex-assistant had so lovingly quit last-minute, he’d expected everything to be dark and silent and, infuriatingly, cold. That was not the case. The main spaces were lit as they were supposed to be, the heat had been adjusted, and upon closer inspection he found two sticky notes waiting for him. One on the desk in need of new ownership, and one on his office door.

The one on the desk explained that the computer was on but the monitor was asleep, for privacy’s sake, and the main line had been forwarded. All messages would be either emailed or relayed directly depending on urgency. The other note simply promised that nothing inside had been touched since the start of the business day.

Both were from Grace. He recognized her handwriting, but she had also signed them.

Romeo huffed out a breath, pocketed the notes, and moved around to the vacant desk. He woke up the monitor and opened the business email, which led to needing to sit down and deal with shit he hadn’t been mentally prepared for. It looked like Grace had gone through what emails she could when she’d booted up the computer, but of course she didn’t readily have the answers for everything.

He was still sitting at the desk that wasn’t his, dealing with shit that shouldn’t have frustrated him as much as it was, when Grace stepped around the corner and into the room. She came up short, blinking rapidly at the sight of him. For his part, he straightened, feeling strangely as if he’d been caught, and his gaze rolled over her.

A fucking skirt suit. Dark green with a cream blouse beneath, a color combination that emphasized her hazel eyes and complimented her complexion. The skirt was fitted perfectly around her thighs and hips, and he knew it would accentuate her ass enough to make his mouth water. The collar of her shirt and suit coat was modest, but with her hair pulled up as she preferred it, her neckline was exposed like an invitation.

His dick jumped to attention and Romeo bit back a groan. What he would give for just a single taste of her…

Romeo cleared his throat roughly and pushed away from the desk, busying his hands with rebuttoning his own suit coat as he stood. “What can I do for you, Grace?”

“I … I’m sorry to startle you, Mr. De Salvo—”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m sure I’ve told you to call me Romeo.” Preferably in a nice, breathy tone meant only for him. Currently, he’d settle for simply the sound of his name passing her lips.

Her soft smile returned and she adjusted her grip of the items she’d carried with her. “You have,” she acknowledged, “but that feels inappropriate somehow.”

He offered her a grin. “I’ll get you to come around eventually.” He arched a brow pointedly. “In the meantime, I’m sure my brother didn’t send you here to banter with me?” Not that he’d complain.

The subtlest tint of pink bloomed across the bridge of her nose and Grace drew a sharp breath. “No, of course not. Mr. De Salvo’s in a meeting he expects to take most of the rest of the morning. He said to offer you a hand while he was otherwise occupied.” She indicated her tablet. “I have access to what I need if something unexpected should come up on that end, so it isn’t a problem. As long as you’re fine with that.”

Romeo let his grin widen just for a moment, then stepped further from the desk that had claimed most of his morning—apparently—and swept an arm toward it. “She’s all yours. If I’ve fucked something up, you have my permission to fix it first and tell me second.”

To her credit, she tried not to laugh. But the sweet sound of her muffled chuckle drifted to him as she ducked by, circling around to claim the seat he’d just vacated. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She set her tablet on the desk and tucked her purse out of sight underneath as if she’d been working there for years. Her gaze flicked to the screen before returning to him. “Is there anything specific I can do for you that you can think of?”

He tucked his hand away again, repeated her question to himself in an effort to hear it the way she meant it, and shook his head. “If you could just go through that mess, and maybe look over the last couple emails I sent out, I think that’s a good start.” A terrible thought occurred to him. “Do you know my meeting schedule?” She would have mentioned if he were expected to join Dante in whatever current meeting was on deck, but that was the only reassurance he had. He hadn’t given the concept a thought.

Grace blinked at him once, her lips parted as if she were about to curse, then she snapped them shut and averted her focus to the computer. “I can find it. Please give me a second.”

Romeo adjusted to lean against the desk while she did whatever she had to do. He was usually not the best at remembering his Monday meeting schedule. That was one of the benefits of having a fucking assistant, for crying out loud. They’d had a good system. But none of that would fly if he’d missed something important. He’d still have to bow his head and take some heat from his brother—and that was never, under any circumstances, an advisable course of action.

“You’re good,” Grace said, almost sounding relieved. “Your first meeting isn’t until one-thirty this afternoon. Do you need me to email you today’s schedule?”

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