Page 20 of Her Dark Salvation

“You could have warned me, you know,” I said.

He pretended to watch the pug-boxer nose my shoes, but she lost interest and wagged her tail into the kitchen.

“Given you’ve obviously met Marco and likely signed one of his NDAs, you know I couldn’t.”

“Bullshit.” I narrowed my eyes, concentrating my irritation into a tight beam of hostility. “You’re not getting off that easily. You could have saidsomething. I had no idea what I was walking into. None. Can you guess how that went, Jeff? Hm?”

He winced.

“Exactly. It went about as well as you’d imagine. I clammed up worse than I have in over a decade. He probably thinks I have a speech problem.”

“I’m sorry, Anna, I?—”

“And then, to add insult to injury, you know what he had me do today?”

Jeff showed his teeth in an exaggerated grimace.

I craned my neck as I enunciated each humiliating word. “Get. His. Coffee.”

“No!” Michael exclaimed from the kitchen.

I spun around and pointed at Michael. He hovered near the stove with a wooden spoon and looked over his shoulder, face twisted in horror.

“Yes!” I exclaimed and turned back to Jeff while still waving my finger at Michael. “Thatis the appropriate response, for the record.”

“All right.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. Let’s… Why don’t you take off your coat and snuggle Lady on the couch. Okay? I’ll get you some wine.”

“I guess,” I snapped.

Lady jumped onto the couch as soon as I sat down and rested her head on my leg. Jeff handed me a glass, sat next to me, and squeezed my shoulder.

The luscious Sangiovese started to melt my tension and took the shrill edge out of my voice. “Seriously, Jeff, how do you even know this guy? He said you have a standing, two-way NDA.” I shook my head. “It was like having a conversation with an Italian gangster out of a movie. What’s his deal?”

Jeff stiffened and shifted his focus to Lady. “He gives CMG a lot of business. Values his privacy. I handle his contracts myself to protect that privacy. You’re the first exception to the rule because I trust you, and Marco trusts me.”

He hadn’t answered the question, not in any meaningful way. But then again, he was under an NDA. NDAs didn’t care about your best friend’s feelings or personality quirks. They didn’t include the clause, “Don’t say anything, unless your best friend needs a heads-up, so she doesn’t turn into a mute.”

“Would’ve been nice to have some idea what I was getting into. I was completely caught off guard.”

“Come on, Anna. You know I couldn’t give you any details until you signed the NDA.”

“I’m talking about Mr. DeVita.”

“Oh.” He snorted and gave me a wry smile. “Yeah, Marco can be a bit… extra.” He ran his hand across the top of his buzzed head, sprang off the couch, and made his way into the kitchen. He peered at the stove over Michael’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist.

“Stop it!” Michael wiggled out of Jeff’s hold. “You’re distracting me from stirring. Stirring is key, or it won’t be creamy.”

“Risotto?” I asked.

“Yes. With truffles.” He glanced over his shoulder and winked.

“It smells amazing.”

“I know.”

I chuckled. Michael was one of the most self-assured people I knew, and I loved that about him. I’d give anything to channel a fraction of his unshakable confidence.

“I mean…” Jeff leaned against the counter and folded his arms, his face smug. “The work is right up your alley, isn’t it?”

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