Page 8 of Venomous Vows

“And I still am.”

The barista comes back with our coffees, retrieving my cold one without asking before returning behind the counter.

Zane’s phone goes off and he fishes it out of his suit jacket before glancing up at me. “Do you mind?”

I shake my head, using the opportunity to actually take a sip of my hot beverage, when Zane picks up the phone.

“Hey,” he deadpans, listening to the other side of the call as he reaches for a sugar packet. “Just about…you wanna do it in an hour?…The same…yeah…whatever, dude…get off my phone…bye.”

The conversation is obviously short and sweet, and Zane puts his cell back, then gives me his full attention.

“Bossman says he’ll help.”

I raise my expression because all that and done? “With Marcella?”

“Yes. And, in turn, we need some help in the kitchen. Our family holds very important dinners and events. We’ll need you present for those.”

“That sounds too easy.”

“You’re a family friend, Elena,” Zane says with a shrug. “I guess that comes with perks.”

“So, just cooking and…”

“Serving.”

“And that’s it?”

“Bossman will talk all that out with you this Thursday after an important dinner that he has. The girls will show you everything you need to know. Are you free to start then?”

I have no other choice but to be.

And that still leaves two days with no movement on my sister. However, I don’t want to push my luck by demanding their help quickly and at my convenience. God only knows how that will be received.

“I’ll be there,” I vouch. “Thank you, Zane. I really appreciate you getting me in the door.”

He grins. “Just work on your charm and you’ll get what you want. He’s not that hard of a man, even though he tries to act like it.”

“Is he well?” I haven’t seen his father in what feels like forever and a day at this point.

“The same,” he replies but adds nothing more.

It sounds as though there’s a possible strain between them and I don’t want to pry for more information.

I’m just happy to have his help at all.

3

ELENA

It’sthe first night working at the Bernardi household and I’m nervous.

The address that Zane had given to me was something I had to double-check twice because it wasn’t a house but a damn palace with a gated entrance.

After showing my I.D. to the guard, I drove to the back of the house where Zane told me to park, but not before gaping in awe of the beautiful landscape and intricate, picturesque space. It’s nestled in a cove of trees with a mixture of black brick and wood. The windows are abundant, the front porch is perfect for morning coffee, and I will never own something like this in a zillion years.

Ever.

After getting inside, I’m instantly greeted by a young blonde with beautiful locks of curls. She introduces herself as Abigail and then shows me off to the rest of the women in the bustling kitchen.

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