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Romano isn’t phased by the hostile greeting. “Good morning, Ma’am. I’m Romano, a friend of Rory’s.” Some of the tension leaves Ruth but she still keeps one hand on her baseball bat.
“My boss, actually,” I correct. My cheeks feel hot and from Ruth’s knowing look, she can tell I’m uncomfortable. Why did he come up? Jesus. He should have stayed down in the parking lot.
“Rory, are you ready?” Romano asks.
“Mama, I got my—” Joel crashes to an abrupt stop when he sees Romano. His eyes widen and his mouth falls open. “Are you Mama’s boyfriend?” he asks. Oh my god. Could this get any more embarrassing? My cheeks are on fire and it’s a wonder the stairwell doesn’t go up in flames from the scorching heat.
“No, baby, he’s my boss.” Joel isn’t listening, though. He’s too busy gazing in rapt fascination at the very expensive watch on Romano’s wrist. My son is obsessed with watches. I have no clue why. He cuts out photos of them from Mom’s trashy magazines and sticks them in a scrapbook.
“Can I have your watch?” he asks.
“Joel, no, you can’t,” I hiss. “It’s not a cheap plastic toy.”
But Romano just slips off his ridiculously expensive Rolex and gives it to my son, who takes it with as much delight as if someone’s gifted him a mint chocolate chip ice cream.
“You can look after it while we drive to the hospital,” he tells Joel, not at all concerned about the fact my son will probably lose it.
“That one’s a keeper,” Ruth murmurs in my ear.
“He’s my boss!” I remind her in a low voice as Romano picks up Joel’s dinosaur backpack and my son starts telling him about his watch collection. None of them are real, of course, apart from the plastic one I gave him last Christmas.
“Of course he is, dear,” Ruth smirks as I follow Romano and Joel downstairs.
Dammit.
Chapter 25
Romano
It’s early afternoon and the club is currently closed. I wouldn’t normally be here at this time but I’m not planning on sticking around long. Once I’ve updated the stock records and placed orders for everything we need, I’m out of here. It’s been a long-ass week and while the family business is quiet since the Dimitri shit show, I’ve been busy chasing Rory around. Not that I view her as a chore. Far from it. But I can see she needs some space. She’s feeling overwhelmed by everything she’s dealing with, which is understandable.
There’s a knock at my door and I lift my head to see Kat waltzing in like she owns the place, as per usual. The mere sight of her has me grimacing these days. What the fuck did I see in her? Sure, she was a warm pussy with a pretty face, but I must have been off my fucking rocker when I screwed her.
Or drunk.
I’m seriously regretting my misjudgment now. The woman is a fucking lunatic.
“What do you want, Kat, I’m busy.” I tap a few keys on my laptop to make it clear I’m working, but she doesn’t take the hint.
“Don’t be mean, baby. I just came to cheer you up!” The text on my screen blurs as she sidles around my desk and pouts at me.
“I don’t need cheering up.” For fuck’s sake. My temper rises and I’m tempted to snarl at her, but then she’d get hysterical and make a scene. Ugh.
The awful scent she showers herself in makes my skin crawl. It’s heavy and noxious. I much prefer the light vanilla perfume Rory wears, which enhances her natural fresh scent. If I’m being honest with myself, I prefer everything about Rory.
“Are you sure? You seem pissed off. I know Tory was an OK dancer, but we don’t need her. I’ll hire someone better to replace her.”
“You mean Rory,” I point out. “And no, you don’t need to hire anyone else. What makes you think she quit?”
“She came in earlier to pick up the stuff she left. I said I’m not her personal assistant and she also wasn’t supposed to get personal calls while she was working. She got upset and tried to punch me, so I told her she was sacked.” Kat examines her nails, not doing a great job of hiding the smirk. “I can’t allow that kind of disrespect.”
It takes me a moment for what she said to sink in.
“What do you mean, personal calls?”
“The night she left mid-way through her shift, some woman called the office for her. Twice! I told her this wasn’t a call service and if she needed to speak to Rory that badly, leave a voicemail on her cell.” Kat rolls her eyes and looks at me, no doubt expecting me to agree. But I’m furious. So furious that Kat’s lucky she’s still in one piece.
Rory’s mother must have tried calling here to ask for help. Twice, apparently. But because Kat is a monumental bitch with a jealousy problem, the message wasn’t passed on in time. This means the only reason things didn’t end in tragedy is that Ruth across the hall was awake enough to answer her door to Joel when he came knocking after Alice collapsed in the bathroom.
