Page 18 of Solemn Vow

If I could just get rid of the shadows chasing me.

“Jimmy’s back to work. I’m sure he’d like you on his crew again.” He eyes me.

“I promised you I was out, and I’m out.” The vow was my best option at walking away from that last meeting with Michael alive.

I know Jimmy told Michael it was my fault he got pinched, and getting the boss’s nephew caught up with the cops isn’t a safe position to be in. Michael agreed to let me walk away, solong as I stayed out of the game. I couldn’t have asked for a better option.

“So, you’re not working for anyone right now? Just being the makeover girl?” He cocks an eyebrow. He’s testing me.

“I’m out,” I say again, more firm this time. “I’m good now. I have a solid job. A good place to live. I’m on my feet. I swear. I want nothing to do with Jimmy.” Or Michael, but I’m smart enough not to insult him.

He gives a firm nod. “I’m glad to hear it. Keep it that way, Marlena.” If I didn’t know what a monster the man actually was, I’d say his tone was something close to fatherly.

“That’s my plan.” I pick up my case. “If I’d known you were related here, I wouldn’t have taken the job.”

“My youngest sister; her second marriage.” He shakes his head, as though he has any room to judge considering he’s had his own troubles in the marriage department. “This your new gig?” He gestures to my box.

“Parties? No, it’s a side job. I have a full-time job. It’s solid work. Legal work.” I add the last part, so he understands. I leave out the part that I’m working at a salon owned by a member of a family he’s not too friendly with. For the most part, they leave their extended families out of their business dealings.

No hard feelings for a cousin or a niece to do business with a member of the other family, just so long as it doesn’t touch family business. It’s fine that Michael’s sister gets her hair done at Luxe Strands, but me working there might sit less well with him.

“If your old man could see you now, huh?” His grin cocks to the side as he chuckles. The dried ramen I had for dinner rolls over in my stomach. I grip my case tighter.

“Some girls would have cracked beneath the weight of all that shit. Your dad overdosing right there in front of you like that, then almost getting tossed into the foster system. Yeah.” He rubshis chin. “Some would have cracked, but not you. You did what you could, what you had to. You’re a survivor.”

I raise my chin. None of this is really praise. This is a preamble.

“You remember, if you come back to the job, you still work for me.” It’s not a simple reminder.

The terms of letting me walk away were that I stay clear of anything remotely touching his business. Even being blackmailed by Jimmy could be seen as me going behind Michael’s back. Which is probably the only reason he doesn’t know. Jimmy would be putting his neck on the line, too, by telling his uncle that he’s extorting me.

“I want nothing to do with you, or Jimmy, or anyone else from back then.” I keep my teeth pressed together to keep my voice from trembling. Michael is handsome, but I know what’s beneath that five-thousand-dollar suit.

“Good.” He smiles and takes a step back; his whole attitude lightens. “Then I won’t keep you.” He opens the front door for me, letting in a gust of cold.

I look down the hall to see if Mrs. Randall is coming back.

“I’ll let my sister know you said your goodbyes.” He gestures toward the door.

I readjust my grip on my case and take my time leaving the brownstone. I won’t be run out of my own job by that prick. He just cost me any further work with Mrs. Randall and any of her friends.

The woman thinks I’m one of her brother’s side pieces. She’ll never recommend me to anyone else.

I hurry down the street and get on the bus when it pulls up.

Once I’m inside and we pull away, I check my phone for the time.

Of course.

Thanks to Michael, I’ve missed my chance.

No latte for me.

As I’m about to put the phone away, a message comes through.

Don’t forget. Breakfast.

Viktor.

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