Page 4 of Samson

“Then come with me, and we’ll get you suited up.”

Chapter 2

Delilah climbedoff the bus and looked up the street as she shuffled to the side of the bus-stop shelter.

“Sorry,” she said when a woman tripped on her luggage and gave her a dirty look before hurrying away.

“This day just gets better and better,” she mumbled, hugging her suitcase against her leg before pulling out her phone. Her destination was already entered, but she wasn’t sure what direction to head.

She studied the map, then looked up at the surrounding buildings, confused. She’d grown up in this city but didn’t know this area at all, and it had been a long time since she’d used public transport—even longer since she’d had to find her way through a city on foot.

After pointing her phone in one direction, she turned, sighing. She shouldn’t feel humiliated, but she did.

Only a few short weeks ago, she had driven herself everywhere and enjoyed an office with a nice view of San Diego. One of the perks when you carry the responsibility of running a small but incredibly successful business.

Now, she was on the other side of the country in a city covered in thick gray cloud.

You live and you learn, she thought as the crowd dispersed. The idiom gave her little comfort, so she focused on whatdidgive her comfort. She was about to see her cousin for the first time in years. And he had plenty of successes to celebrate. Hopefully it would be enough to help her forget about her failure.

She headed down the street, dodging pedestrians as her mind drifted back again to what life should be.

If only she’d known her prosperity had been too good to be true. That much success so quickly had to be connected to a shady deal. She’d just never expected her partner to stab her in the back like he had. André had been one of the most genuine people she’d ever met. Or so she’d thought. And she was usually so good at reading people.

When she turned the corner, she checked the map on her phone again and stopped, her frustration keeping her from caring about the people grumbling as they sidestepped around her.

If she hadn’t been so desperate, she would have headed back to the airport. Everything about this day was doing a magnificent job of humbling her to the point of misery.

Someone bumped into her, knocking her backpack off her shoulder.

“Hey, watch it,” he said before pressing his phone back to his ear.

She glared at him as she hiked her backpack back onto her shoulder, then pulled her suitcase around and headed in the other direction.

After almost twenty minutes, she knew she was getting close when the street changed. It had all the hallmarks of money.Stores that she would have shopped in a month ago lined the sidewalk. Now, she couldn’t afford to breathe the air.

When her phone said she was fifty feet away, she scanned the signs as she walked until she saw the one she was looking for.

A smile followed a burst of emotion that pressed tears into her eyes.

Carpi was becoming a go-to restaurant in town, known not just for its cuisine but for the live music and sophisticated atmosphere that made reservations essential.

Luca had been modest about how far he’d come, but she’d read the reviews. A thriving upscale restaurant in a lavish part of the city was no small feat.

Then her smile faltered. She used to be invited to restaurants like this. Now, she’d be serving in one. But she couldn’t let Luca see her disappointment.

After a quick cleansing breath, she returned the smile to her face and checked the door. It had been left unlocked like Luca had promised.

She entered slowly, wanting to appreciate every detail. The stylish decor in the room was dark with delicate lamps adding splashes of light, more for elegance than illumination. It was too posh for her taste, but he’d have a clientele that was at home here and would open their pockets to enjoy the ambience.

At the far end of the room was a stage where the live music would be playing tonight. If she remembered correctly, Luca had said they had several jazz fusion performers. Although she didn’t have the slightest idea what that was.

Along one wall was a swanky-looking bar. Besides dinner guests, the restaurant boasted a truck load of patrons who came to spend as much money on drinks and listening to the music.

But none of that was for her. Not anymore. She was here for the paycheck.

“D!”

She spun around as a short man with thick, dark hair and angled features hurried toward her. “You made it!”

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