Page 49 of Assistant to the Mafia

Lucia did her best to pretend Grace wasn’t there altogether.

Grace supposed that was a step up from screaming and kicking and told herself to remember Romeo’s words from the night before. She needed to be patient, and steady, to show Lucia that her presence wasn’t a bad or scary thing.

On the way to school, Lucia asked her father, “Do you think the crazy lady will be at the gate again today?”

From the third-row seat, because Romeo hadn’t wanted her sitting upfront where she’d be more visible, Grace watched Romeo’s head snap around to look at his daughter again.

“You saw her?” he asked after a beat.

Lucia bobbed her head. “I didn’t get a good look. But everyone was talking about her. She was out there for, like, hours. Even the teachers were talking about her, and telling us to be sure we didn’t wander that way on recess and stuff.”

Romeo blew out a breath. “Well, if you see her today, be sure you stay away from her.”

The SUV pulled up to the gate as Lucia chirped her agreement. Grace watched quietly as Romeo got out and helped his daughter resettle her coat and backpack. It was a crisp, overcast morning and the forecast was threatening an icy day ahead. Mo had the heat in the Navigator cranked up to keep them comfortable. Still, Romeo stayed outside in the frigid air and watched as Lucia darted for the school building, not moving from his spot beside the SUV. Grace smiled at the sight. It was sweet, in a way Lucia was sure not to appreciate in a few short years.

Romeo turned and pulled the door open again, sliding what had been Lucia’s seat forward and motioning. “All right, come on. I’m not leaving you stuck in the back.”

“It’s cozy back here,” Grace teased. She obligingly unclipped her seatbelt and crawled to the opposite side of the cabin before stepping out, allowing Romeo to help her keep her feet. He’d had new shoes acquired for her overnight, which she very much appreciated, but tasteful office heels only did so much in icy weather.

Two minutes later they were on the road again, Romeo’s hand stretched across the seat and curled around hers. “How’s your head feeling?” he asked gently.

“You worry too much. It feels a lot better, I promise.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “You inspected it yourself, didn’t you?”

His gaze lifted as if he could see through her atypically loose hair to the butterfly bandage at the side of her head. “I’m no doctor.” He sighed. “Just remember to speak up if you start to feel worse, okay?”

“Whatever you say.” She didn’t know why she felt like teasing him, just a little, but the dip in his brow and the way his hand tightened around hers assured her he had caught on. They both knew nothing could come of it, and that was probably what made it fun.

He stroked his thumb slowly over her skin. “I’ll remember you said that.”

A thrill shot down her spine as the SUV dipped into the parking garage. It was going to be a learning curve, adjusting to working alongside Romeo as his fiancée—a learning curve for both of them.

Mo dropped them off at the elevator entrance and they rode the private box all the way to the top floor, Romeo with his arm around her waist. They both knew he was taking advantage of the last moments of pre-work demands, but she wasn’t complaining. She liked the change. She liked the security of his embrace.

When the doors slid open, Romeo’s arm obligingly fell away and he stepped forward, taking the lead into the main hallway as he surely would have any other time.

“What the hell do you mean ‘not available’?” a male voice bellowed, his angry, scratching tone carrying down the hall. “I’ve been waiting days, dammit! Who even are you? You don’t get to talk to me like this!”

Grace let out an involuntary groan when she recognized the ranting voice. A part of her wanted to immediately spin around and dive back into the elevator. She should have known he’d be in a tizzy, since she’d never bothered responding to his technically weekend email. She pulled in a breath and squared her shoulders, work bag clutched in her hands, and met Romeo’s gaze when he looked back at her with both eyebrows raised. “Wish me luck.”

She picked up the pace and strode into what was effectively her office, finding one of the girls from middle management shrinking into herself behind the desk in response to their undoubtedly uninvited guest’s screaming rage. The girl was surely a stand-in to at least cover phones while Grace had been out, and that was fine. The grown-ass-man throwing a temper tantrum was not.

“Mr. Richardson,” Grace said, her tone purposefully more reprimanding than welcoming, “I have to ask you not to yell at our employees. Particularly when I’m certain you don’t have an appointment.”

Wesley Richardson rounded on her, his face turning increasingly red. “Mariner! I emailed you days ago, you useless excuse for a secretary! I need to talk to—”

“Your email was received on Monday,” Grace confirmed, keeping her tone sharp. “It wasn’t urgent, and we had more pressing matters. I’ve had every intention to get back to you before week’s end.” A small lie. Dante’s instruction had been to let the man simmer.

Apparently, he had a low boiling point.

Richardson took a large step forward. “Not urgent?” he repeated, his voice rising. “The hell it isn’t urgent! I demand—”

“You don’t make demands around here, Mr. Richardson,” Romeo said as he stepped up beside Grace. He’d shed his outer coat and looked for all the world like he’d simply come from his office. “Lower your voice and mind your manners when you address our employees or we’ll have you banned from the premises.”

Richardson’s eyes widened. His chest puffed out with a deep breath. “You can’t do that,” he said, almost disbelievingly. Then he launched straight back into his scream-fit, spittle flying from his mouth. “We’re supposed to be business partners, De Salvo! I have rights! I want my company back, you scummy, cheating, no good bastards!”

Romeo didn’t move an inch, hands tucked into his slacks pockets, expression neutral. “Are you done?”

Grace sighed and sidestepped to the desk, setting down her bag and shedding her coat to accommodate the building’s functioning heater. She pulled out her tablet, quickly opening the file she wanted, and rejoined the unpleasant altercation in the center of the room.

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