Page 37 of Working for the Mob

“Lucy and I.”

“Why don’t we need to order the bread?” I asked.

“Because we already baked them.”

“You can bake?”

She gave me an affronted look and I thought she was going to begin yelling at me, but her expression softened.

“Well, no. But Lucy can. She really has a talent for it. Something I’ll never have,” she said. “She has style and baking and I have …”

A smile that could melt a frozen stream. And eyes that I could drink in and never quench my thirst.

“I’ll need to sample the product first,” I cut in. I didn’t want her to self-reflect herself into tears. “If it’s useable, I’ll cancel my order for tomorrow.”

She opened her mouth and I thought she was about to argue with me, but a confident grin lit up her face. “Deal.”

“Let’s go. Now. We’ll take my car. It will be faster.”

Thankfully, I had parked behind my office, which was good because Genevieve moved gingerly. I opened the door for her, and she struggled to lift herself into the car.

“Rough day?” I asked her, as I started the car. She sighed with exaggeration.

I pulled out of the parking space and headed to my rental on Elm. Genevieve opened her mouth to say something, sighed again, and then looked out the window. A block later she did the same thing. I hoped that if I ignored her, it would just go away.

I parked in front of her house and opened my door, when she finally spoke up.

“You didn’t come to the café today,” she said. It wasn’t a question and I didn’t know how to respond.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?” she asked.

I needed to choose my words carefully. “After yesterday, I assumed you didn’t want to see me.”

“I didn’t,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “I don’t … but I was learning yesterday and I made good progress. I felt like I was actually contributing to something.”

“You contribute at the café.”

“But I made a difference with the books,” she said. “I organized an entire month of a client’s shipments in an afternoon.” Something that would take me a week to trifle through.

“Would you like to join me in the office tomorrow?” I asked her.

She raised her eyebrows.

“Do you have to be there?”

“It’s my office! Where do you want me to work? The men’s room?”

“Is that an option?” she asked, and before I could respond she cut in. “Yes. I would like to join you.”

???

I opened the door to the smell of a warm blanket. Yeasty and slightly sweet, my mouth watered instantly and I regretted not eating since breakfast. The house had changed since I was last here. The layers of grime and dust were gone, and a fire burned in the open hearth. Even the furniture shined brighter.

In the kitchen, Lucy bobbed back and forth between the counters. She matched her sister stain for stain.

“What’d he say, Genny?” Lucy called.

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