Page 8 of Ruthless Mafia Heir

"I do," I reply. "I work at the bodega, too. Well, worked there. My family doesn’t have enough money to pay for me to come here, so I have to come up with it by myself, and I guess..."

I trail off. I feel like I’m going to throw up. All the stress that has been piling down on me this last month or so, it’s finally getting the better of me. I feel the tears starting to well up in my eyes again, and I glance away, not wanting him to see me like this. There’s something, deep down in my gut, that’s telling me not to let a man like this sense any weakness in me, or I’ll be in some serious trouble.

"Hey, it’s alright," he murmurs, pushing a tissue box across the table toward me. I snatch one up and dab at my eyes quickly.

"I’m sorry, I’m okay," I tell him. "I’m just... it’s been a really tough few weeks, that’s all."

"You can talk to me about it, if you want."

I lift my gaze to meet his. Though his expression is kind, I feel a fizz in my chest as he stares at me. No, I don’t think I want to talk to him about this, no matter what he might be able to do to help.

"No, no, it’s alright. I just... I just need to get another job. I can do that myself—"

"I can help you with that."

I stare at him for a moment. How could he help me get a job?

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I know some places in the city that are always looking for workers," he explains. "A few launderettes, coffee shops, stuff like that. I’m sure you’d be perfect for them."

My heart leaps. I could use all the help I can get right now. Even if it’s from him.

"That would be amazing," I gush before I can stop myself. "I... I’ll do anything in terms of work, honestly. I don’t mind. As long as it’s paying my bills, I don’t care."

"See, that’s the kind of attitude that will get you far," he remarks as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone to fire off a text message. "Let me contact a few of the people I know. See if we can get anything going for you."

I chew my lip as I watch him set about his work. This still doesn’t feel quite right to me. I guess he’s from a rich family and all. Maybe these are places that his parents own? Would he really be willing to go out of his way to help me like this? Perhaps I got the wrong impression of him the first night we met. Maybe I’ve been unfair to him all this time.

"Thank you," I mumble, and he flashes me a grin. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which are dark, like a shark’s.

"You’ll find some way to repay me, I’m sure."

A shiver runs down my spine, and he flicks his tongue across his bottom lip. My gaze is drawn down to his mouth, framed by a carefully cultivated designer stubble, and I draw it away again quickly.

Now isn’t the time to be checking anyone out, Sophia!

"Let me take you for a drink, help you calm down," he suggests. "There’s a bar near here, Flagrantes. You know it?"

I snort.

"I know of it," I reply. "The drinks are too expensive in there for me. I’m more a five-dollar-bottle-of-wine girl."

He chuckles slightly, the sound surprisingly warm.

"On me," he replies. "We can wait to hear back from some of the contacts I have in the city. And besides, you look like you could use a drink."

I don’t know if this is a good idea. I hardly know this man. And my instincts are warning me that there are depths beneath the surface, depths I might not survive traversing. But fuck it. Why shouldn’t I accept his offer? It’s just a drink. One drink. Not like I’m going to get a chance to go to Flagrantes without him, anyway.

"Okay, just one," I reply, and he grins, rising to his feet and grabbing his coat. I can’t help but notice the way his muscles flex beneath his white tee as he moves. He's strong, no doubt about it. Could probably hitch me off my feet if he wanted to. And plant me on this desk, and...

"You okay?"

His voice cuts through my reverie, and I realize I’ve just been standing there as he holds the door for me. I nod quickly and slip outside before he can see the flush on my cheeks.

It’s cool out, and the air bites at my face as he chats to me a little about my work at the coffee shop. Turns out he’s quite a coffee afficionado, and he’s impressed with my barista abilities.

"Not everyone can make a black coffee special, but you know what you’re doing."

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