Page 87 of Made to Sin

“Done, anything else?”

I should have thought about it longer, but I shook my head. If something comes up, I could pray he would let me make changes or, worst-case scenario, quit.

He stared at my face a second longer before walking back around to the driver’s seat. Neither of us talked the rest of the way to the house. Nor the time it took for him to grab a glass of whiskey and for me to disappear inside my room.

At least one thing worked out for me: I got a job.

WHENISAIDIWANTEDLuciano to treat me like the other employees, I didn’t mean for him to show up with Sofia the next morning while disregarding my presence completely.

I thought she was gone from my life, considering we hadn’t had any run-ins lately, but it would have been too soon. An influx of resentment traveled up my throat as an uneasy feeling stabbed at my chest.

Distracted by the couple, the decanter I was cleaning slipped from my hands. I gasped as I watched it fall in slow motion, waiting for the ear-piercing shatter to follow.

Merda, if that wasn’t a sign I needed to focus on my job rather than Luciano, I didn’t know what was. I would officially become the loser trainee who broke something before the bar even opened.

Luckily, as the glass was inches from the floor, another hand reached out and caught it. I exhaled a sigh of relief, thankful for my coworker’s reflexes.

“Careful there. We wouldn’t want you to get fired on your first day now, would we?”

Red flushed up my cheeks from the embarrassing mishap. “Thanks, Francisco.”

“Anything for a pretty lady,” he winked.

I raised a brow. “I didn’t hear anything about this job coming with a free date.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents— you can find out more in private if you know what I mean.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his bad take on a flirtatious joke. Not only was he a helpful mentor, but the guy was so calm about my shortcomings, it didn’t make me feel as incompetent.

Francisco’s smile faded as he abruptly returned to wiping glasses, alerting me something was wrong. Turning to see what caught his attention, I made eye contact with the man of all my internal turmoil lately.

With a fake cheer, I asked, “How can I help you, Luciano?”

He glared at me, forearms resting on the bar countertop that I probably would have to rewipe once he was gone.

“Boss,” he corrected. “What’s so funny?”

I gave him a not-so-friendly smile. “Nothing,boss.”

“You sure? Sounds like you’ve been joking more than you’re getting work done.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending to look past him for something— for someone. “I think some girl is waiting for you over there. You can get that sorted out, and I’ll worry about working more efficiently. I apologize,boss.”

If my sarcasm wasn’t enough, the finger I pointed at Sofia should have implied that I didn’t want him around. He shook his head at my immaturity but didn’t argue with it, heading toward the dark stairwell that led to the basement.

Was the snarky tone and attitude necessary? Nope, not one bit. Was it out of jealousy? Yep, entirely so.

If he wasn’t going to talk to me, the least he could do was let me talk to my coworker in peace. There was no chance he expected me to work in silence. It was an eight-hour shift for goodness sake!

Francisco spoke up from beside me, making his first peepsince Luciano’s arrival. “Have you lost your mind?”

I shrugged. “These days I feel like it.”

“You were lucky to keep your job, let alone not be shot for disrespecting him. You do know who he is, right?”

“Doesn’t everyone? The great Luciano Beneveti. Blah, blah, if I hadn’t heard enough of how powerful men can be.”

Maybe I was projecting, but there went the light mood. We continued cleaning and preparing for the night with small talk here and there. Any joking matters died as quickly as they appeared. Francisco was fun to talk to, don’t get me wrong, but the conversations were so meaningless.