Page 13 of Bobby

Marco walks into the office and shuts the door behind him, leaving everyone else outside. A few coworkers stand and start quietly gossiping about what they suspect is going on. But when we hear a crash, followed by a bang on the door, everyone is quick to close their lips and watch, as if the entire wall might come down and we could see what’s happening.

We wait with bated breath. A second later, Marco opens the door and steps aside to let the officers in. They say some muffled words and then handcuff Spencer. I can barely see from the angle I’m at, but when they take him out, there’s no mistaking his split lip and left eye that’s starting to swell. A few people gasp. I might have been one of them, but I’m too shell-shocked by this actually happening at my place of work to do more than watch while my mouth hangs open, just like half the office, as our boss is escorted out.

“Ms. Frazzer.” Marco’s deep voice pulls my eyes quickly to his. I’m so focused on watching Spencer being perp-walked out of the office, I didn’t even notice him coming over to me. “Mr. Leone would like a moment of your time. Please bring your stuff.”

I blanch at his words. Am I about to be fired? Handcuffed? Was discovering the money issue something I should be more worried about? You hear about things like that. People discover things they aren’t meant to, and they go missing. Or worse, get blamed for it. I can’t leave my girls. They can’t go live with their father. They just can’t.

“All of it?” I squeak out, fear heavy in my voice.

He glances at my stuff and shakes his head. “Just your laptop should suffice.”

I let out the breath I was holding and move quickly. I hadn’t even powered my laptop on yet, too focused on the drama of the day and being late, so all I need to do is unplug it from the cable.

Oh God, is it about me being late?

I don’t miss Missy watching me a second before I look down, only then realizing I’m still in my tennis shoes. Too late to do anything about it now, so I just follow Marco into the elevator.

“You can breathe.”

My eyes find Marco’s in the elevator’s reflection as we both turn to face the front. He stands in front of me, as he allowed me to enter first.

I huff out a breath, accompanied by an awkward smile. “Is this the part where you tell me your boss isn’t as bad as the rumors say?”

He shakes his head and then turns enough to see me square on. He looks me over, noting my shoes with a small twitch of his lips before looking back at my face. “But I’ve got a feeling you can handle him.”

That makes one of us.

He turns back around, and neither of us speaks again. Nor does the elevator stop as we make our way up to the top floor, which I know belongs to Mr. Leone.

When the doors open, Marco steps out just enough to block the door from closing, holding it open for me with an arm gesture to go ahead, mocking me like I know where to go. Unlike the last time, the floor is busy with people moving back and forth, and not one of them pays me any attention as I walk to the end of the hall.

“Name?” someone barks at me from the desk across from Mr. Leone’s closed office door. I was so focused on getting to the door, I overlooked his secretary. A man who could put any fashion guru to the test with the way he wears a white crisp shirt and purple ascot. His face is all angles—from his nose and chin to his cheekbones. He looks pissed but poised. If The Devil Wears Prada was missing a character, he was it. A practical twin to that Emily character, with sharp facial features and dark red hair cut and styled to perfection.

“Mr. Leone asked Ms. Frazzer to come see him at her first available moment.” Marco speaks for me.

I side-eye Marco. If I’d known that, I would have stopped to change shoes. I don’t miss his lip twitch, as if he can read my thoughts, as I stare at the man who seems to be more than just a driver to Mr. Leone.

“He’s on a call” is all the secretary says, not sparing either of us a look as he continues to type on his computer.

Marco nods before putting his hand on my back for a second to guide me to one of the two chairs, the same ones he sat in the last time I was here.

We wait just long enough for me to chew my entire thumbnail down to nothing while I tap my foot nonstop before the secretary tells us we can go in.

I stand and wait for Marco to stand as well. He looks at me and shakes his head. “Boss didn’t ask to see me.”

Right. I’ve got this.

I take a steadying breath, then straighten out my shirt as I hold my laptop in my other hand. Holding my head as high as I can, I walk toward the closed door. I knock once and then poke my head in when no one speaks.

I look around quickly, noting it’s only Mr. Leone in here, sitting at his desk with his face down over whatever he’s writing. He seems so focused that I don’t want to interrupt him, but going back out seems silly.

So, I make myself known. “I was told you wanted to see me?”

Is it bad that I hope one look at my face will make him deny his claim and I can go back to the seventh floor?

“Please come in.” He rises quickly, buttoning his suit jacket and gesturing for me to enter before he even looks at me fully. “Can I get you something to drink? Eat?”

Only then do his eyes take me in as I step inside and close the door behind me. His gaze traveling the length of me shouldn’t faze me as much as it does. So much so that I forget for a moment what he said before I look at the table he’s pointing at.