Page 27 of His Assistant

He shakes his head. “Just more bullshit with the Calderones,” he answers. “And I’m hearing this new expansion in Vegas isn’t going to happen.”

Rafe curses under his breath, and I give Tomasso my full attention.

“What the hell do you mean?” I ask him. “I just spoke with the foreman yesterday, they’re supposed to break ground on Monday.”

He shrugs. “Apparently, there’s some union issue with the contractor. If you want, I can fly out and handle it.”

I shake my head. “No,” I tell him. “I should be the one to handle it.”

Just as I’m saying it, an idea forms. I can’t force Sofia to talk to me, but if I take her on a work trip, she’ll at least have to be in the same room with me.

“Sofia knows the ins and outs of that contract,” I say to no one in particular. “She and I will head out tonight.”

Rafe raises an eyebrow at me at the same time Tomasso shakes his head.

“Does Sofia know about this?” Rafe asks me.

“She will in ten seconds,” I tell him. “Text me if you need me this weekend. I’ll be in Vegas.”

Rafe rolls his eyes again and Tomasso just nods, looking between us like he doesn’t really understand what’s going on.

They both leave my office, and I shoot a message to Sofia since it’s the only way to get her attention lately.

Go home and pack a bag. We need to go to Vegas. Wheels up at six.

She’s in my office not thirty seconds later.

“What the hell, Dominic?” she snaps.

“Oh, so it’s Dominic, now?” I ask her.

She narrows her eyes at me. “We’ve never discussed anything about work trips,” she says darkly. “You can’t expect me to just pack up and go at your whim.”

I sigh and motion for her to sit down. She crosses her arms, but doesn’t budge.

“This isn’t something I would normally ask of you,” I tell her honestly. “The Francelo deal is going to fall through because of some sort of union dispute. You handled all that paperwork. I need you.”

“Fine,” she answers tersely. “Then I’ll go on my own. There’s no reason you should have to go too.”

“I have to go because they’re going to need my signature on the amended paperwork,” I point out.

“You could always e-sign,” she argues.

“Sofia,” I groan. “We have to get past this. I swear on my nonna’s grave that I’m not trying to seduce you by flying you on a private jet to Vegas. I need you to help close this deal for me. I’ll even give you a few days off after the trip to make up for it.”

Her arms are still crossed, but her shoulders relax a little.

“How long are we going to be gone?” she asks. “Do I need to have someone water my plants?”

I can’t help but laugh. Even when she’s pissed at me, she still maintains that dry humor of hers.

“It should only take a day or two. Besides, you’ll love Vegas.”

She looks me up and down. “I very much doubt that,” she huffs before turning on her heel and marching out.

Thankfully, her anger doesn’t stop her from leaving with me a few hours later. We take a town car to a private airport in Jersey, and I try not to feel smug when her jaw drops at the sight of my jet.

“Ever been on one?” I ask her casually.