Page 16 of Bobby

Whatever it is… it started with her.

I’m curious if it will continue growing the longer I know her or if it will stop at some point. Either the heat dying out or me reaching the capacity to handle it.

“Wonderful.” I move to my desk with ease and pull out the contract I wrote for her earlier this morning, during my first breakfast. I was up too early not to eat something, but I wanted to share a meal with her. It seemed only right, since she shared hers with me.

“Please take your time looking this over. I’ll be back in a bit to discuss any questions you have.” I hand her the papers and walk out. Forcing her to stay in my office and not scurry away to some other area of the building keeps me from having to track her down if I need her again.

When I hand her the papers, I realize it’s the first time I’ve been close to her. Before, we had a table between us, and I thought I caught something when I took her plate, but I wasn’t sure until I walked past her just now.

Honeysuckle.

There were hints of it at her place, but I was too overwhelmed by so many things to focus on that one detail. Until now.

She smells like the garden on top of my penthouse. I paid a fortune to have a lush garden take up most of it so I could find peace after a hectic day. I usually spend time up there on the weekends, reviewing emails as I sip a coffee and let the lush surroundings sweep me away to a time of ease. And during spring, the honeysuckles come out in full bloom.

It’s a sweet scent, never overpowering no matter how many we plant. It reminds me of home, where Mama had one honeysuckle bush next to a tree my brothers, my sister, and I used to climb when we were kids. It’s a calming scent that reminds me of easier times, when I could just worry about Mama’s wrath if we ever broke a window from playing ball or Father’s disapproving stare if I didn’t thank Mama for making brussels sprouts. Which I hate with every fiber of my being.

Funny, really. Out of all the women I’ve met—and there have been several, either pursuing me on their own, through the famiglia, or Mama trying to set me up—no one has ever smelled of honeysuckle. A chance meeting with a woman who captures my attention with her level of detail and saved my company millions in potential lost revenue is serendipity at its best.

Alfonso, my secretary, looks up and pulls back in alarm. I’m not known for coming out of my office when a guest is still in there, left unsupervised.

His mouth even hangs open a bit at this impromptu visit.

Walking closer to him, I nod at the organization on his desk. I’ve always appreciated that about him. “I need a list of after-school programs that are close to Chadwick Charter School in Brooklyn. I’d also like a list of programs close to the office.”

“Sir?” Alfonso looks beyond confused, but it’s not because of how I’m speaking to him.

More that I care about after-school programs. More than once, in a few memos, I’ve said family comes second to the job. I’ve never looked into this before, and I know that’s what he’s questioning.

I don’t answer him. And I don’t explain. Alfonso might be a pompous asshole, but he gets shit done and makes a point to only present the best to me when I ask for something.

I dismiss him as I turn. Marco’s already standing when I face him.

“You were late this morning,” I comment. It happens, but not often.

He nods. “Maranzetti problem.”

With those two words, I move on, knowing that business topic isn’t for this building.

“Any issues with the change in schedule?” I ask.

He shakes his head but adds, “If we’re planning on making this a regular thing, might I recommend a car service.”

He’s not questioning me on wanting to help Willow and the girls. He probably already has one set up, if I know him. It’s a smart move. Access to and from her place and the children’s school. It would allow her and the girls to arrive on time, and I would know where she is when I need her.

I’m not a man who loses control. But this feels close. Real close. This morning felt like I ran up ten flights of stairs on repeat when I had no idea why she was late. To prevent that from happening again, I think it would be wise if I kept tabs on her. Just until I understand my reaction to her a bit more and can compensate for it.

Something about her has captivated me. I’m not to the point that I’m about to turn my entire life upside down for her and the girls, or even introduce her to my mama. But I’m man enough, and old enough, to know not to ignore what I’m feeling. Different isn’t always bad, but it’s not always good either.

“Let’s set that up starting tomorrow. I also want to have time to stop by a hardware store this afternoon.”

“Is there an issue, sir?” Marco straightens, misunderstanding my words.

“Not that kind of store. Ivy’s project was stepped on this morning, and I want to make sure she has enough supplies to rebuild it.”

“Who was it?” His words are almost unintelligible, but I speak “growl” often. Habit from growing up with Vinny and Danny, and occasionally Tommy, when something pisses them off.

The murderous look on his face matches the one I felt when I learned about it as well. “Some pedestrian. No one we can track down.”