Her cheeks turned rosy, and satisfaction rolled over me.
I stepped onto the elevator and explained. “I’ve been stuck in my office all morning, so I could use a break.”
“Oh… yeah. I get that.”
I glanced at our reflections in the glass and she caught me. I smiled and turned my gaze to the numbers lighting up the control panel. Four, three, two, one, P2, P1, and then the elevator stopped.
“This is me.” she took a step towards the open doors. “I’m looking forward to hearing back from you. Thanks for seeing me out.”
“Of course. Which car is yours?”
“That one.” She pointed to a Toyota down the row.
I stepped out and walked her to the car. “A rental?”
“Yes. For now. Once I get the job, I’ll get my own.”
“I like your attitude.”
A smile played at the corners of her mouth—secretive, knowing. Like she held all the cards and wasn't showing her hand. She pulled a key ring from her handbag and unlocked the car.
I opened her door. She sat and pulled the seatbelt across her shoulder. “Thanks again.”
“I’ll be in touch.” I shut her door and watched her drive off. This whole time I’d been telling myself that I was just making sure she got to her car safely. But when I caught one last glimpse of those dark eyes in the rearview mirror, I knew the truth.
I was in trouble.
And worse—I didn't want to get out of it.
I stood in that parking garage long after her taillights disappeared, wondering what the hell I was doing.
Barbara had been right. I needed someone to replace her.
But I was pretty sure Julia Russell was going to be a lot more than just an assistant.
Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.
Back in my office, I stared at her folder.
Julia Russell was either exactly who she claimed to be, or the most dangerous candidate I'd ever interviewed. For some reason, that excited me even more.
Chapter 3
Julia
The family jet touched down at LaGuardia just after nine p.m. I'd slept on the flight from Salt Lake, curled up in one of the cabin's comfortable beds with 30 momme mulberry silk charmeuse sheets.
I'd insisted on those sheets.
A woman has to have standards, after all.
But the moment we began our descent, my stress levels crept up. Family meetings did this to me—especially ones involving assassination plots and hostile takeovers. Even the silk sheets couldn't prepare me for what was coming.
I had exactly one hour to get from the airport to Queens.
The late-night meeting was scheduled for eleven, which meant I needed to be there at ten.
Spots for meetings like this were selected at the last minute. Tonight, a suburban house in Howard Beach, Queens. One of my cousins' places. To be honest, I'd forgotten which one. The extended Russo family could fill a small stadium.
