Page 172 of Lorenzo

He rises and gathers the reports.

I remain seated.

At the door, he pauses.

“I am not objecting to whatever is happening between you and Donna.”

“Nothing is happening that concerns you.”

His mouth moves slightly, though it is not quite a smile.

“Of course.”

I narrow my eyes.

“But,” he continues, “whatever is happening cannot delay this investigation.”

“It will not.”

“See that it doesn’t.”

He opens the door and leaves.

The latch clicks behind him.

I stay where I am.

The conference room is quiet now, the long table scattered with abandoned water glasses and the impressions left behind by folders and notepads.

Mario is right.

I have had plenty of opportunities to ask Donna whether she will continue working for us.

I could have brought it up after we left the station. During dinner. While we stood in her backyard with Mocha. That morning over breakfast.

Instead, I spoke to her about Gemma, her mother, her relatives, the FBI.

Anything except the new job we have for her.

I told myself the timing was wrong.

That she needed space after the case.

That Alessio’s name had barely been cleared and she deserved one night without another Conti problem placed in her hands.

All of that is true.

None of it is the real reason.

The reason is that I do not know what happens when she works for us again.

Donna has rules.

She already used them once to retreat from what happened between us, insisting she did not sleep with clients. The fact that the investigation had ended removed that barrier.

Hiring her again puts it back.

She may decide the personal part ends the moment she accepts the job.