Page 52 of Assistant to the Mafia

What if Jules and Romeo didn’t get along, or she couldn’t handle the hours and the grueling workload? In any of those cases, Grace’s sudden upset would have been for nothing. Grace knew better than to get ahead of herself. She knew better than to make it personal. She had a job to do. She was still expected to perform professionally, no matter who she was marrying.

“Bad time?”

The question made Grace jump in her seat. She’d been so intently staring at Jules’ paperwork, she hadn’t even seen anyone walk up. Her face flushed and she couldn’t decide if she was grateful or further humiliated at the unusual sight of the youngest De Salvo brother standing across from her. “Lost in thought, I guess,” she finally offered. “I’m sorry.” Grace gestured to Dante’s door. “He’s in, and he shouldn’t be on a call that I’m aware of.”

Instead of replying, Mikey set down a suspiciously recognizable box and swept up the paper she’d been staring at. “You have a problem with this woman? She looks boring.”

Grace eyed the unsealed cellphone box he’d deposited for a lingering moment, confusion trickling in, before shifting her attention up to him again. “No,” she said. “We’ve never spoken and she’s in good standing. She’s applying to fill the assistant position.” She paused. He knew about that, right? She’d always assumed the brothers shared basically everything.

Mikey looked up from the paperwork, blinking slowly. “For Romeo?” He scoffed. “You don’t have to be worried about that.”

The heat returned to her face. “I’m not!” Even to her ears, she didn’t sound convincing. She drew a breath to calm herself. “I trust Romeo,” she said. “It’s…. There are some men around the office who like to make sexual jokes out of everything. I realize that’s unavoidable, but apparently the inevitable ‘Romeo and Juliet’ jokes are going to get under my skin. If she even makes it past the interview rounds, of course.”

Mikey shrugged. “Then deny the app. Problem avoided.” Her mouth fell open, but he kept talking, pointing to the box. “Anyway, that’s for you. Romeo asked me to set it up. You might have to re-download some stuff, but all your basics should have transferred over. Same number, too.”

Her focus snapped back to the box. She wasn’t sure which question to ask first. Romeo had left the office shortly after the meeting, she assumed for other business, and this was the last thing she’d expected. Quickly, Grace shifted aside the papers on her desk to make some room, then reached for the box.

Inside was a brand-new phone, the updated model of the kind she preferred. It was even the same base color. “Mikey, thank you.” She lifted it out and ran her fingers across the smooth surface. Not having a mobile phone had made her feel so unspeakably vulnerable.

“Don’t mention it.” Mikey set a reusable bag where he’d set the box, then reached over and picked up the remaining papers for Jules, as if he’d had a new thought. “We’re family now. That’s what we do.” He took a step away, in the direction of Dante’s office, and added, “Speaking of … your sister’s downstairs.”

sixteen

The Perfect Sister

Grace took the main elevator downstairs as quickly as she could. She had just about had it with Cait’s invasively self-serving attitude. Multiple times in the past several days, Cait had sworn there was no urgency behind her insistent attempts to reach out. Every single time, Cait had been firmly told to respect Grace’s working hours if there was no emergency.

Had Cait called and left a voicemail the previous night? Or during the standard lunch hour? No. And there were enough other messages to assure Mikey had retrieved what Grace had missed.

By the time the elevator popped her out on the ground floor, Grace had worked herself into a ranting mood. Which was a terrible mood to be in when walking into a fairly public, much more crowded space. The lobby floor was almost always busy to some degree. Phones ringing, multiple voices talking and pretending they weren’t distracted by the overlapping conversations nearest them.

So the angry woman at the front desk, holding up her line, did not help.

A security guard hovered over the woman that could only be Grace’s sister, his expression making his discomfort clear. “Ma’am—”

Dyed platinum hair emphasized the swing of her head as Caitlin cut him off. “Do not call me that! Do I look old to you? If you aren’t going to help, then quit hovering. You’re making me uncomfortable.”

Too many people were watching. Was the lobby always this crowded in the afternoon? Or was it just Grace’s bad luck? Grace angled her way through the throng of nosy employees who apparently had nothing better to do and raised her voice to be sure it carried over the next bit of nonsense her abrasive sister was about to spew. “Caitlin. Stop harassing our security guard or I will help him throw you out.”

Cait, the security guard, and even the receptionist on the other side of the desk, all cut their attention to her. As did nearly everyone else.

Cait huffed with clear irritation, lifted a purse from the counter, and shoulder-checked the security guard as she marched up to Grace. “Grace Mariner, where the hell have you been? I was starting to think you were being held hostage in there. You haven’t answered your phone since Monday.”

Grace really wanted to take hold of her sister’s somehow still perfectly smooth braid and drag her out the door, and then slam it shut in her face. But she would not do that. Least of all with such an audience. Instead she lifted her chin. “And on Monday you insisted there was no emergency. I believe that’s why, when I was told you’d repeated that claim to one of my bosses, I chose not to rush calling you back. You haven’t left me a message since.”

Cait rolled her eyes. “Who leaves messages anymore? Try answering your phone while it’s ringing once in a while, Grace. I can’t believe you made me come all the way out here to have a conversation with you!”

Grace pulled in a breath.

The security guard, having moved close enough to speak quietly, cleared his throat. “Ms. Mariner, is everything all right?”

Cait turned a nasty glare on him. “Why are you still hovering? Are you some overgrown peeping tom? Get away from—”

“Oh my gosh, Cait, shut up!” Grace snapped, hissing the words. She ignored her own flush of embarrassment and looked over at the wide-eyed man. “Yes.” No. “I’ve got it from here. Thank you for your diligence.”

“Uh, sure.” He cleared his throat again. “Of course, ma’am.”

Cait visibly twitched.

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