Chapter 3

Dante took us to the most expensive restaurant in the city.

It was difficult to miss the message. Be nice to his girlfriend, and life could be very pleasant.

Vanessa sat beside him, wearing jewelry that caught every light in the room.

The way he looked at her was almost gentle.

Who knew? Beneath all that ice, the Don was apparently a romantic.

By the time dinner ended, rain was coming down hard.

Coworkers paired off under umbrellas and hurried toward taxis. I'd forgotten mine, so I stayed beneath the awning and hoped the weather might develop a conscience.

“I can give you a ride.”

Leo held his umbrella over both of us.

“Mr. Romano and Vanessa came together. My car's across the street.”

“Thank you. Seriously.”

Once we were in the car, he glanced at me in the mirror.

“How long have you been with the company?”

“Five years.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not anymore.”

This was more conversation than I'd heard from him in a month.

“Vanessa's new to the deputy role. She'll need guidance on the project.”

There it was.

“Of course. She's his girlfriend. I understand.”

“That isn't what I meant.”

He met my eyes briefly in the mirror.

“Rebecca will be going on maternity leave. We'll need an acting team lead. I'd like you to be ready.”

I sat a little straighter.

On merit, I should have been the obvious choice. Still, it was good to hear someone else say it.

“I will be.”

Vanessa and I split the next project evenly. She handled the first half; I handled the second. Once combined, the report needed Dante's personal approval.

She volunteered to deliver it.

Normally, we passed that job around like an unexploded grenade. Having his girlfriend on the team might have one advantage.

She came back looking miserable.

My stomach tightened.

Maybe even romance couldn't survive his review process.

“Vanessa? You okay?”

“Mia, can you do me a favor? Please say yes.”

She looked close to tears.

“What happened?”

“I made a mistake in my section. I didn't realize the figures had to include this year. I thought last year's numbers were enough.”

I waited.

“I panicked. I told him that section was yours.”

I blinked.

“You what?”

She caught my arm.

“He wants you in his office. Please help me out. I'll make it up to you. Dinner, anything.”

Lucy nudged me and shook her head.

I lowered my voice.

“I’ll correct it. But tell him that section was yours.”

“Of course. Thank you, Mia.”

Vanessa hurried away.

“Careful,” Lucy whispered. “She’s his girlfriend.”

I saved Vanessa’s original draft, then replied to her email.

Please send the sources for your section so I can update the figures.

I hit send.

I entered Dante's office prepared for a terrible ten minutes.

Everything was gray, dark wood, and expensive silence. Even the light seemed reluctant to come in.

He didn't look up.

“I called for you ten minutes ago. When I flag a problem, I expect it to be addressed.”

I reminded myself the problem wasn't mine.

“How long have you worked here?”

“Five years.”

“Then you know the reporting standard.”

He slid the document across the desk. It tipped off the edge and landed near my feet.

I bent to pick it up.

“These figures are a year out of date. I can't make decisions on information nobody checked.”

His eyes met mine, cold and direct.

“If you take responsibility for a section, I expect you to stand behind it. Can you fix this?”

“Yes.” My throat tightened. “I'll correct it.”

Leo knocked and came in with another stack of documents. He looked from me to the report.

“The second half is sound,” Dante continued. “The first isn't fit to go to the partners.”

“I understood this was a joint project,” Leo said. “Mia and Vanessa each prepared a section.”

Dante looked at him sharply.

Our director dropped another file beside my keyboard.

“Could you finish this before you leave?”

“HR just sent my termination notice. I’ll hand over my current projects, but this needs to go to someone else.”

He read the notice on my screen and took the file back.

I saved the severance details and put my project files in the shared folder.

At eight, I sent him the handover notes.

Received. I’ll take it from here, he replied.

I logged out, picked up my box, and headed for the subway.

Vanessa disappeared for the afternoon. I couldn't find her, so I rebuilt her half myself.

Current figures. New research. Rechecked calculations.

By the time everyone else went home, I'd made it through most of the mess.

I ordered coffee. Dinner seemed like an activity for people with time and functioning appetites.

My monitor was the only one lit in the open office.

I rubbed a little peppermint balm into my temples, hoping it would keep the headache from winning, then carried the corrected report to Dante.

He hadn't left his office either.

He looked up as I came in.

“What is that smell?”

“Peppermint balm. For the headache.”

“I don't like it.”

He paused, trying to find a description.

“It smells like—”

“A candy cane lost a fight with a pharmacy?”

The words came out automatically.

Atlas had used that exact ridiculous description when I'd complained about the stuff in a message.

Dante stopped moving.

His fingers went to his brow. Then he looked at me properly.

“Where did you hear that?”