Chapter 2 #2
His grin faded, almost becoming strained.
“There were no authorized cutbacks, Reiko,” he said.
“The manager in charge of your department acted without my clearance. He’s been penalized for that, and I could certainly hire you back, but I made the assumption you wouldn’t be comfortable with the environment that would result in. ”
She swallowed heavily. She’d wondered about that, since she hadn’t heard a word about cuts and usually that news turned into gossip weeks before the axe fell.
In which case, Guerra was right. Even if the man who’d targeted her was gone outright, if she simply returned to work immediately after, it would be obvious.
And she’d had a hard enough time dealing with one man who’d clearly been less than thrilled at working next to a Jap.
Thinking about it that way, she doubted only one of her former colleagues was behind the targeted firing.
Reiko chewed her lip briefly, her gaze unintentionally lingering on the colorful blooms still being held out to her as if he had all the patience in the world.
She sighed and nodded. It was awkward to hurriedly close and unlatch the door while still holding her phone, so she tucked the device into a pocket and hoped that wasn’t a mistake. Then she opened the door.
Guerra smiled wide again as she scooped the flowers into her arms. “Have you eaten yet? I’d love to take you to dinner.”
She stared up at him, once again caught off-guard. Then, finally, she managed, “These need water.” Not exactly the best comeback. Made worse by leaving the door open, effectively inviting him to follow after her as she shuffled into her kitchen.
She couldn’t help but wonder if her modest apartment felt like a closet to him.
Guerra trailed behind her and rested a hip against the counter, remaining out of her way but within her peripheral vision while she worked. “That’s not an answer.”
She might have been a little rough with the chopping of the flower stems, but she tried to keep them even lengths regardless. “I appreciate your apology,” she said, her tone tight, “but I dislike being anyone’s pity project.”
He waited until she had set the scissors down before replying again, a nearly silent laugh in his voice. “Oh, I assure you, beautiful, you are not a pity project. The flowers were the apology. The dinner is a date. Two separate things, though I admit the timing is poor.”
The flowers slipped from her hands, landing a little sloppily into the water she’d at least already filled in the vase. She turned her full attention to him without thought. “What?”
His grin remained, blue eyes sparkling. “A date. I’m absolutely sure you’ve been on one before, but give me a chance and I’ll blow all your old experiences out of the water.”
For a moment, Reiko only stared at him. This man took confident to absurd heights.
He’d gone from personally apologizing for her unjust loss of employment to asking her on a date in the blink of an eye.
Indignation sparked inside her and she turned her back to him, lifting the vase from the counter with the excuse of taking it to the small dining table.
“I’m not sure what it is you think you’re after, Mr. Guerra, but I won’t fall for your tricks.
” It took all of ten seconds to position the flowers in a way she liked and she had to bite back a smile. She always had loved chrysanthemums.
Quiet, distinctly masculine, chuckling sounded behind her and she realized her mistake far too late.
Already his body heat curled around her, only a heartbeat before she registered the subtle scent of what had to be his cologne.
He settled a hand in the curve of her hip, his touch sturdy, but any heat she felt from that contact paled in comparison to the brush of his lips over her ear.
“It’s no trick, beautiful. Let me take you wherever you want and I promise you’ll learn exactly what I’m after. ”
For a split-second, Reiko forgot to breathe.
This sort of thing, it didn’t happen. Men like him didn’t look twice at women like her.
She could go along with it—plenty of women dreamed of this, didn’t they?
There was no doubt in Reiko’s mind that all he really wanted was a night.
Why her, she couldn’t guess. Maybe he had a type. Maybe he was just bored.
But it wasn’t worth exposing herself like that. She knew exactly how wrong it would all go in the end.
Reiko shoved herself free of his touch, ignoring the part of her that wailed inside at the loss of his warmth, until the small table stood between them.
“I respect that your manager acted beyond his capacity and that he’s been dealt with, so I give you my word I won’t cause trouble for your company.
But I am neither a conquest nor a notch on any man’s bedpost. It’s time for you to leave. ”
He stared at her for several seconds, his expression unreadable, his stare unblinking. Then he tucked his hands into his coat pockets and let a softer smile lift his lips. “Oh, with the way I feel when I think about you, I doubt my bedpost will survive. But I can be patient.”
She ought to have yelled at him, or even cursed him. Instead, she held silent, watching as he walked back in the direction of her door.
Without looking over his shoulder, Guerra called, “Have a wonderful evening, beautiful Reiko. I’ll be in touch.” Then he was gone, the door shut behind him.
Silence held heavy as she stood frozen to her spot in front of the dining table for another full minute.
Finally, the air rushed out of her and Reiko sagged against the nearest dining chair. She had no idea what had just happened, let alone what Guerra could have been after. She did know her heart still pounded like a war drum in her chest.
Her eyes betrayed her as she righted herself, gaze moving again to the pretty blooms that had become the centerpiece of her table. She rolled her lip between her teeth.
Well, whatever it was … it wasn’t entirely terrible.
Santino followed his nose and the usual clamor of voices into the large dining room at his grandfather’s home. They weren’t expecting him, but that wasn’t a problem. There was always enough for more.
He spread his arms as he sauntered into the room and projected his voice to make a dramatic entrance.
“So, this is where the party is!” He dropped a hand to his youngest relative’s hair, ruffling the dirty blond as he passed, before taking the seat he always claimed at the right of his grandfather’s chair.
Laughter carried around the table, nearly overwhelming his mother’s greeting as he settled across from her. “I thought you said you couldn’t make it tonight?”
Santino chuckled and filled himself a glass of tea from a pitcher that waited on the table.
“Those plans fell through. Nothing to worry about, Mamma.” He supposed he had known he was being a bit optimistic thinking he could persuade Reiko to go to dinner with him so soon.
He lifted the pitcher a little higher, shifting his focus to the elderly man still shaking his head with knowing bemusement. “Can I top yours off, Nonno?”
The retired head of the family nudged his glass forward. “Please.”
Mamma sighed. “Well, it’s better you’re here, anyway. You don’t need to be spending time with random huss—”
“Corinna, please,” Danilo interrupted, his sharp tone snapping across the table. “Coddle your son when mine isn’t here.”
Santino laughed again as his mother clamped her lips shut, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face.
He took the opportunity to turn to the male in the chair beside him.
“Always good to see you, cousin,” he said.
It was a small lie. The family dinner table was no place for work quarrels.
“You didn’t get kicked out again, I hope?
” The laughter that trickled into his voice was genuine.
It certainly wouldn’t be the first time Danilo got tossed to the curb by a woman.
Danilo narrowed his eyes predictably. “Gisella’s out with friends.” He lifted his knife. “How’s that discrimination issue you’re dealing with at the office?”
Santino bit back a sigh. He’d hoped to at least get food on his plate before that came up. Granted, with Danilo there, he should have known better. It’d probably already come up. Work had long been a bone of contention between them.
Danilo had never made much of a secret, amongst blood relations, that he felt he could do better.
“Discrimination?” Mamma repeated, the soft clink of her silverware pausing.
“I’m sure Santino has it under control, Corinna,” Nonno said. His words were quiet, as near to neutral as the man tended to get.
“It’s already dealt with,” Santino said, keeping his tone calm.
He kept his visible focus on filling his plate with the food that was passed to him.
The words were true. The problem was handled.
It was only that the greater subject was a scarce heartbeat removed from the one that had dominated his thoughts for most of the previous two days.
And he wasn’t ready to share even the topic of her.
“Still,” Danilo said, echoing his words from their last argument, “you let it happen.”
Santino slammed the salad bowl onto the table, his knuckles flexing against the well-used pottery.
“Yes,” he snapped, “it happened under my nose.” He turned his head enough to meet his cousin’s scowl.
“Is that what you want to hear, Danilo? That I failed to predict one of my managers couldn’t at least hide his prejudice? ”
Danilo snorted. “Someone in management costing a minority female her job could be bad news for business these days, cousin. It doesn’t matter if you saw it coming or not.
” He sliced into his perfectly crusted chicken.
“Now not only do you have the ugly problem of the manager to deal with, but the more delicate issue of the woman—”
“As I said,” Santino interrupted, his voice hardening, “I’ve handled it.
” More importantly, if Danilo made one more veiled threat toward Reiko, the no-business-at-the-table rule was going to go flying out the fucking window.
In fact, if Danilo didn’t shut up, Danilo himself would go flying out the fucking window.
Nonno hummed, the sound carrying a rattle it never used to but nevertheless capturing their attention. “You’re sure, Santino? Danilo’s not wrong about the risk. We can’t afford that sort of scrutiny.”
Santino rolled his jaw and exhaled his irritation before shifting his gaze to his treasured elder. “I’m sure, Nonno.”
Nonno dipped his chin almost imperceptibly, accepting Santino’s answer without further question.
“That’s enough work talk,” Mamma said loudly. She pushed to her feet and grabbed the bread basket, then held it out toward Danilo’s boy. “Here, take another, sweetie.”
Santino accepted the change in conversational direction, as well as the opportunity to actually eat his dinner. And he told himself not to question how Danilo, who was family but who technically ran a wholly separate business, knew quite so much about such a new situation. Someone had talked.
Or someone was spying.
Santino was not a fan of either option.