He knows I can’t afford to lose this job.
That is the whole game.
I look at the schedule again, at his neat little fraud in black ink, and force myself not to cry from pure homicidal frustration.
“Right,” I say.
Because what else is there to say?Thank you for stealing from me, sir, may I have another?
When I step back out onto the floor, my eyes are burning.
I blink hard, furious with myself for even letting the tears threaten. I do not have time for a breakdown. The restaurant is about to open, half my staff is missing, and I still need to figure out how to pay for afternoon daycare before they start side-eyeing me at pickup like I’m a deadbeat.
A deep voice says, very near me, “Is something wrong?”
I freeze.
Of course.
Of course it’s him.
I turn and find Niccolò Neri standing a few feet away, as if the universe decided I hadn’t been tested enough today and wanted to throw in my personal worst weakness for flavor.
He’s alone for the moment, one hand in his pocket, gaze fixed on me with that same unsettling steadiness he always has. Which is somehow worse.
I straighten automatically.
“Nothing I can’t handle, sir.”
His eyes flick over my face, and I know immediately I am fooling no one.
Great. Love that for me.
Without a word, he reaches into his jacket pocket and offers me a folded white handkerchief. Expensive-looking, because of course even the man’s sadness accessories probably cost more than my grocery budget.
For a second, I just stare at it.
Then, I take it.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
He inclines his head once. No judgment, no questions. No attempt to force comfort where it isn’t welcome.
Just the handkerchief.
That almost undoes me more than anything else tonight.
I clutch it harder than I mean to.
“I should get back to work,” I say.
His gaze stays on me another beat.
“Of course. I won’t keep you.”
I nod too quickly, turn, and scurry away before I do something catastrophically stupid, like let him see too much.
The last thing I need right now is Niccolò Neri noticing anything about me too closely. Remembering what we’d once been to each other, even if it was just one night. Looking into me.
