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Eventually, as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, I emerge from the depths of my work, feeling a sense of accomplishment tempered by exhaustion. The client’s problem is not fully resolved yet, but we’ve made significant progress, and I’m confident that we’re on the right track.
With a weary sigh, I glance at the clock and realise how late it’s gotten. The office is quiet now, the last traces of daylight fading from the windows. As I gather my belongings and prepare to head home, I make a mental note to check in with Angelica first thing tomorrow, to ensure that she’s doing okay and to try one last time to explain myself to her.
But for now, duty calls, and I must answer. With one last glance around the empty office, I steel myself for the journey ahead and set out into the night, ready to face whatever challenges tomorrow may bring.
* * *
The following morning I let myself into Angelica’s apartment to find it…bare. Every trace of her is gone.
Pulling out my phone, I dial my brother’s number without pausing to withhold my own.
“Fratellino,” Luca purrs, making my hackles rise. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I asked for information from you weeks ago. Where is it?” I spit.
The fucker just laughs. “Did you really think I would help you, bambino?”
I grind my teeth. “I told you I’d pay the price.”
“I don’t think you can afford it.”
“Try. Me.”
“Return home. Join the Firm.”
“My life is here.”
“Thought as much. Then enjoy a life without her in it, fratellino. Ciao.”
The line goes dead before I can argue with him and in a fit of rage, I throw my phone across the apartment, where it slams into the wall and drops to the floor in pieces.
“Fuck!” I yell. It feels good to let some of my frustration out, but it’s not enough. Not when Angelica has somehow managed to slip through my fingers. And I can’t even check the security footage from the hallway because I just smashed up my phone in temper.
I can’t believe she’s gone. And I have no way of finding her.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Angelica
7 Months Later
“Whatcha drawing?” I jump and slam my sketchbook closed, embarrassed to have been caught working on my personal project at work. Admittedly it’s my lunch break, but still.
I gaze up at my colleague, Lou. She’s young but a bloody good intern. In her second year at Trinity university, she’s working at the agency part time to build her portfolio ready for when she graduates next year.
Girl’s got a smart head on her shoulders and works bloody hard. I love working with her on the few days a month she’s in the office. She’s become a pretty good friend and we chat most days.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” I quickly tell her. “Lunch?”
“God yes, can we get the hell out of here? It’s actually a nice day – well it’s colder than an ice dildo out there, but itisdry at least – so maybe we could go for a walk?”
“To the deli down the road? Don’t have to ask me twice!” I reply with a laugh. The local delicatessen has the most amazing cheese selection and even though Lou doesn’tlovecheese the way I do, she’s more than happy to indulge me, because they have a pretty mean charcuterie board too. Turns out salty meat is her thing.
I sling my sketchbook and phone into my bag and follow Lou out of the office.
I’ve been working at the new agency for around three months now, and…I’m happy. It’s not as high stakes or as big clients as I had in my last role, and sometimes I feel like I’m having to work my way up from the bottom rung of the ladder again, but I have much better work life balance now.
When I couldn’t immediately secure a position after quitting with Mr Mortimer, I decided to use my savings to follow my dreams. I took a four month tour around Europe – a cheese tour.
