“Please sit.”
She does.
Dante remains by the door.
I look at him. “Thank you.”
It is a dismissal.
He hears it but does not move.
Julia glances back at him. Her expression does not soften, exactly, but something passes between them. Familiarity. Warning. Perhaps both.
His jaw tightens.
His eyes move to me, then back to her.
I see it more clearly then. Not ownership, but protective. Definitely something there.
Dante exhales through his nose, then steps back.
“I’ll be outside.”
“Find Lorenzo,” I say. “Make yourself useful.”
His mouth flattens.
Julia lowers her gaze for half a second, and I suspect she is hiding a smile.
Dante leaves.
For a moment, silence.
Julia turns back to me. “I apologize.”
“You are not responsible for Dante.”
“No,” she says. “You’re right. I’ll save my apology for something more important.”
That almost earns a smile from me.
“Do you find you need to apologize often, Ms. O’Brien?”
Her hands remain folded in her lap. “No. I prefer to correct the problem before it reaches that point.”
That earns my attention.
“Efficient,” I say.
“Necessary,” she replies. “Apologies rarely fix what preparation could have prevented.”
Good. She has a spine.
I sit and pick up the resume she sent yesterday morning.
Organized, references included. No embellishment. No unnecessary language. Exactly the kind of document I prefer.
I told Dante Saturday night to arrange this, and by Sunday morning, her resume and references were in my inbox. Now, here she is, promptly on Monday morning.
