Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I nod. “That sounds right.”
“My executive assistant left unexpectedly yesterday.”
That’s not what I was expecting him to say at all.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, trying to follow his thought process.
“I need someone who learns quickly,” he continues. “Someone organized. Someone who can keep their head when other people lose theirs. Most importantly, I need someone who can start right away. I don’t have time to conduct interviews.”
He’s direct, even though I’m not sure what he’s being direct about. Surely he’s not insinuating that I should be his assistant.
“You could promote from within?” I suggest.
He smiles at me wryly. “Or,” he says slowly, “I could give the job to you.”
“I don’t have that experience,” I gasp, too shocked to say anything else.
“You have enough,” he answers, still clutching my résumé in his hands.
“That’s kind of you to say, Mr. Vieri—”
“You’ll have to call me Dominic,” he says with a smirk. “We’ll be working very closely together, and I hate being called Mr. Vieri.”
“Well, Dominic,” I try, but his name feels strange in my mouth. “It’s a kind offer, but—”
“Before you say no, I should tell you the pay is more than double what the other position offers. Better benefits, too. Long hours, but I have a generous overtime policy.”
I swallow hard and try not to look like I have dollar signs in my eyes. It would be stupid to take this position without knowing what I’m getting into. I spent hours researching the other job. I know all the ins and outs of the Hospitality Department. I know nothing about working for Dominic Vieri.
“How generous?” I hear myself asking.
2
DOMINIC
It only takes Sofia three days to stop asking where things are. She’s a quick learner. Either that, or she’s trying to prove that she doesn’t need any help. Either way, I admire that about her.
Most new hires ask too many questions. They want reassurance, guidance, and proof they belong. Sofia doesn’t. If she doesn’t know an answer, she takes the time to find it. If someone gives her the wrong one, she checks it against the work until she has a solution.
I had the instinct when I hired her that she’d be good at the job, but I never expected her to be this good. That’s why I trust my instincts.
Unfortunately, she’s also become the shiny new toy on the executive floor. She’s young and pretty, not that I’ve paid much attention to her looks. Half the men in VP positions keep finding reasons to swing by her desk for a look. Associates who should know better linger with files that could’ve been emailed. Arthur Klein calls me twice in one afternoon to ask if “the new girl” is taking messages.
I roll my eyes and remind him he doesn’t need more bad press where young women are concerned. And she’s not a girl. Going by her graduation date, I’d put her at twenty-five or twenty-six, though she carries herself like someone much older.
Rafe walks in without waiting for Sofia to announce him. He barely glances at her desk on the way past, like she’s an inconvenience between him and my office.
He closes the door behind him.
“I see the new assistant’s still working out.” He chuckles.
I barely look up at him. “Is that supposed to be a dig at her or at me?”
“Definitely at you. Your last assistant lasted what? Nine days?”
“Ten.” I smirk. “But it was a rough ten days. I assume you didn’t come here just to harass me.”
“Well, I suppose that depends on what you consider harassment.” He sighs, dropping a thin file on my desk. “Calderone’s lender is pushing into Astoria.”
I glance up from the property acquisition file. That gets my attention. “What business?”
“Small restaurants. A market. Two repair shops. Nothing terribly important.”
“Then why mention it?”
“Because one of the restaurants leases from us.”
Enzo Calderone runs the second-biggest organized crime outfit in New York. Second only to mine. It kills him to always come in behind me. He’s worked tirelessly for years to change that and comes up empty almost every time.
This is a new angle. Stupid, maybe, but I’ve never considered him particularly smart.
“What’s the name of the lender?”
He opens his own file and peruses it for a second. “Marino,” he finally answers. “Benito Marino.”
“Is that a real name, or an alias?”
“I’ve never heard of him.” He shrugs. “But his signature is on a bunch of legal documents, so he has to be at least somewhat legit.”
“Put someone on him,” I instruct. “We need to know what we’re up against if Calderone is trying to edge us out of our own territory.”
“You got it, boss.”
He says it casually, but his expression stays tight. He has more bad news, and he doesn’t want to tell me. I’ve known Rafe long enough to know when he’s holding back on me.