Page 73 of Working for the Mob

“Are we done here?”

“I’m not joking, Art! What if I’m not ready to be a manager? What if this is too much too soon?”

“You’re going to be fine. You’ve got Lucy and I’m going to be just across the street. Okay?”

Genevieve stuck out her lip at me and shot me a pair of doe eyes, and a mixture of pity and arousal seeped through me.

“Ifthe fire department runs into the fire hydrant and they can’t put out the fire, you make sure you get everyone out. I’ve got insurance on this place anyway. Happy?”

“Scared,” she said, and shared a smirk with Lucy.

“Art, I’m going to make about forty scones for tomorrow. Are you sure that’s alright?” Lucy asked, and used her own pair of doe eyes on me. At least her doe eyes weren’t arousing.

“Ask your manager,” I said, and turned my back on her.

“Let’s plan on selling them tomorrow, and take stock to see how many to bake for Tuesday,” she said. “And make sure to expense the ingredients. I’m going to count the items we have at the front.”

Genevieve left the back room, and I watched her skirt hug her curves as I followed her. I had seen her bare-ass the day before, and imagined that instead.

She leaned over the display case and started to count the items in it.

“Hey, did you send Henry by this morning?” she asked.

“No,” I said, with my eyes glued to her ass. “Why?”

“He came by,” she said, and stood back up. “Again. Said you told him to check in on us. Although I’m not sure if he even looked at me once. He only had eyes for her.”

She nodded in Lucy’s direction in the backroom. She waited, as though she expected me to have an opinion.

“Huh,” I said, noncommittal. Whatever Henry did in his free time was none of my business.

“You think they’d be a good match?” she asked.

A heat grew up the back of my neck. “I … uh.” Men didn’t talk about each other’s love lives behind their backs. There’s a code. “He’s punctual. He always gets his job done.”

“I don’t want to know what kind of employee he is. Art, will he be good for Lucy?”

She marched up to me, put her hands on her hips, and stared at me with her jaw set.

“He always has my back,” I said, and Genevieve raised an eyebrow at me. “He’s always treated women respectfully in the past, but I’ve never seen him court a girl. If he does––whenhe does––I’m sure he’ll approach her like he does his job.”

Genevieve rolled her eyes. “And how does he approach his job?”

“He’s reliable. Respectful. Loyal. I couldn’t ask for a better partner,” I said.

“Good.” Genevieve said, and gave a nod of approval. “Lucy deserves someone like that.”

Chapter 22 – Genevieve

“Genny, we are almost out of the scones,” Lucy squealed, bright-eyed. Her disheveled hair mirrored my own. We hadn’t even closed to prepare for the lunch rush, and exhaustion already crept through my bones. Although we were a man down, we still had to do the same amount of work.

My feet throbbed, my head pounded, and my sore back threatened to hunch me over. And I loved every second of it.

If Jamie wasn’t in the hospital, I’d say that it was the best day ever. When I woke up, I didn’t know whether I’d sink or swim. But the rush from putting everything on the line ran energy through my veins. I almost didn’t need to drink coffee that morning. Almost.

“Looks like we’ll need fifty for tomorrow,” I said, and called a customer up for their coffee. We decided we would no longer run orders to the customers––they would need to come up to the counter themselves.

“Mrs. Jenkins, it's good to see you,” I said, as she picked up her order.

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