Page 72 of Coerced Kiss
“She always thinks the worst. You can’t change the way she’s wired.”
That’s the last thing I need.
“Hey.” Jasmine leans closer, bracing a hand on the desk. “Are you and Saverio De Luca really an item?” She straightens. “I mean, words goes around the office, if you know what I mean. Zack saw the two of you leaving here together.”
“Um, yes.”
Pointing a finger at me, she laughs. “You’re a dark horse, Anya. I didn’t think you were into the bad kind of hot guys.”
“Saverio isn’t a bad guy,” I say, not sounding convincing.
“Oh, come on. Everyone knows in which circles he moves.”
My argument is weak. “That doesn’t make him a criminal.”
“If you say so,” she says in singsong voice. “How did the two of you even meet?”
“We ran into each other on the High Line. He went for a jog, and I was getting some air. I’d lost an earring, so he helped me to look for it.”
She stares at me like someone transfixed by a spellbinding story. “Did he find it?”
“Yes. To thank him, I invited him for a drink.”
“Oh my God.” She places a palm on her neck. “I’m going to dress up in tiny shorts and drop an earring on the High Line.” Lowering her voice, she asks in a suggestive tone, “Does he have any single friends?”
My smile is stilted. “If I meet them, I’ll let you know.”
She laughs, pointing at me again. “You do that.”
The filing clerks who return from their break shoot her a hostile look.
“I better go,” she whispers, making a face. “Good luck with the filing. Don’t worry. You won’t be stuck here indefinitely. Tomorrow, Price would’ve forgotten about her grudge, and you’ll be back at your desk.”
“Thanks,” I mutter as she finger-waves before tiptoeing away with a grin that she shoots over her shoulder.
For the next couple of hours, I finish sorting the piles of paper. While I go around the room, looking for the appropriate boxes in which to file them, I scan the shelves and the names of the clients that are printed on the boxes. There’s nothing under Bianchi. I go down the alphabet until I get to L, but there’s no Luigi either. Neither a label for Giorgio nor Saverio. Nothing under De Luca. If there was anything, it may be filed under one of the names of the various companies they own. From what I read, Luigi is the proprietor of several clubs and hotels around the country.
Saverio said Mr. Lewis stole money from them. He didn’t say Mr. Lewis did their books. But I can’t imagine another way of Mr. Lewis getting his hands on mafia money. It would’ve been easier to have access to both the information and the funds if he managed their accounting. In that case, Mr. Lewis may not have kept any records on paper.
“We’re locking up,” one of the clerks says behind me.
I give a start. “I’ll get my bag.”
After tidying the desk, I walk outside to find Kevin waiting for me. The two men who followed us lean on the hood of their car, their eyes shaded by sunglasses. They get into the car when Kevin opens the door for me, and when he turns the car into the road, they follow.
“Home, Ms. Brennan?” Kevin asks in a gruff voice.
Home. What an odd term to use. Saverio’s house isn’t home for me, but Kevin may not know that. He may not be aware that our relationship isn’t real.
“Go straight here, please,” I say. “I’d like to go see a friend.”
I direct him to my apartment building where I pay Livy a visit. When I tell her Saverio asked me to move in with him, she’s so overcome with excitement, telling me I’m doing the right thing and wishing us only the best, that I feel every bit the despicable liar I’ve become. I don’t stay long, opting to go to my apartment to pack a few personal items, but when I insert my key in the lock, the door opens in my face.
I step back, almost losing my balance.
Saverio grabs my elbow to steady me. He stands on the threshold with a box under his arm, looking dashing in a dark suit and every bit the rebel with that hoop in his ear.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, taken aback.