Chapter 9
“We’re talking five hundred people here, Mr. Ruffo,” the head of HR says from the other side of my desk. I can see she’s irritated even though she’s trying to hide it. Must be because I summoned her to the office on a Sunday, likely interrupting her family time, but I don’t really care.
“So?” I continue reviewing the quarterly reports of a company I recently acquired.
It’s a headache-inducing task, especially after a meager three hours of sleep.
“We have been through this, Lorraine. Most of them are already close to retirement age. And their performance assessments indicate they are unlikely to be of further use to the company.”
“Yes, sir. But, would you consider an alternative, especially with the holidays coming up?” she persists.
“It’s highly unlikely that most of these people will be successful in finding another source of employment in this field, given their current age and skill level.
Maybe we can invest in upgrading? With adequate training, we could move them into other roles within the firm.
I’m certain the majority would appreciate that opportunity rather than—”
“Work with Public Relations,” I interrupt, meeting her gaze, “to convey that this was a difficult but necessary decision. Ruffo Enterprises appreciates their years of dedicated service, and we regret that the timing of it could not be better. That is all, Lorraine.”
As soon as the office door shuts in her wake, my phone pings in my pocket. I pull it out to check the message.
9:13 Unknown:
You built and built, proud of the height
Counted numbers that gleamed so bright
But twigs are stacked where stones should stay
The tower will fall and fade to gray.
I’m still glaring at the stupid verse when the phone lights up with an incoming call. It’s my investment portfolio manager in London. Calling me on the weekend. This can’t be good.
“What is it?” I ask as soon as I hit the green button.
“Mr. Ruffo, good morning! I’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday, sir. But um…there’s a developing situation pertaining to Danube Industries. However, I want to assure you that I’m working on resolving the issue as we speak, and—”
“Hutchinson,” I growl. He’s yammering about the Austrian firm I invested over seven million dollars in not even six months ago, but he’s not getting to the fucking point. “What happened?”
“A local Vienna paper published a story online that Danube is preparing to file for bankruptcy. It was an unsubstantiated report, which has already been removed from the paper’s website, and the individual responsible for this transgression has been disciplined.
Nevertheless, the story has been noticed by other news sources, and the rumor is spreading on social media.
Danube is preparing a statement to deny the allegations and intends to take legal action against the Vienna Gazette.
However, we anticipate that once the markets open tomorrow morning, the stock value will plummet.
At least for a little while. I have no doubts that it will rebound when… ”
My fist tightens around the phone. It’s not the first time this particular company’s stock has fallen because of misinformation.
In previous occurrences, stock value recovered within days.
Still, the fact that this shit keeps happening doesn’t look good.
Even if, in the end, the company itself is no worse for wear.
“…has already agreed to publish the retraction,” Hutchinson continues, “and the editor-in-chief has expressed sincere apologies for this unfortunate event. It seems they believed their source to be highly credible, an insider at Ruffo Enterprises. Considering the error, they were frank, naming the individual who brought them this information. I checked your company directory, sir, and it appears that that particular employee is currently on leave, so their computer terminal may have been compromised. Since I’ve previously worked with your IT director, I reached out to him as soon as my suspicions formed.
He’s on his way to the office as we speak to start the investigation, and—”
I launch the phone across the room and watch it shatter against the wall.
“So?” Rina nudges me with her elbow. “How much did you get last night?”
I keep my gaze on the tower of canapés I’ve created on the five-tiered stand and continue arranging the beautifully decorated bites. “Three grand.”
She whistles. “Wow. Your guy must have wanted some weird shit, huh?” After a moment, she adds with a shudder, “I hope he didn’t ask to suck your toes.”
“He just wanted me to talk.”
“Talk?”
“Yup. I spent the entire evening babbling nonsense. Meanwhile, he didn’t utter a single word. At the end of the night, he just left. No goodbye or anything. But, he left me a gift.”
“No shit! Do tell. Was it jewelry?”
“Actually, no.” I set the last piece on the stand and turn to start assembling the next one. “A winter coat.”
“A…coat?”
“Mm-hmm.”
After Maggie delivered the bombshell last night about my silent guest wanting me exclusively for himself, my nerves ratcheted up all over again.
On the way home, my hands shook so much I could barely hold on to the large box I discovered on the back seat of the car.
Not sure why I didn’t just let it lie on the soft leather cushion.
Instead, I held it carefully on my lap, as if it were a live grenade that could go off at any minute.
I was too anxious to open it, waiting until I got home to peek inside.
I swear, my imagination was running wild the entire drive from the Annex to my apartment complex.
I pictured everything from sexy lingerie to a severed human head in that box.
What I found, though, when I got home and shut myself in my room, was the most beautiful winter coat.
Merino wool in this amazing shade of maroon, and so, so buttery soft and lightweight.
Lined with the smoothest gray silk. It looked so terribly expensive that I was afraid to take it out.
“I can’t accept it, of course. I called Maggie first thing this morning and asked how I can return it.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“It doesn’t feel right to keep it, Rina.
” I shake my head. “It’s the kind of gift given to a lover, not a…
hostess at the gentlemen’s club. I can’t…
I can’t accept it. Especially with the kind of money I got.
It’s all way too much for me simply talking about unimportant things.
” I lean toward her to whisper, “He seemed to like it, though, and asked for exclusivity with me.”
“Girl, you sure lucked out with that gem. I wish I had a man who wanted to see only me and paid even half of what you got. But you should consider keeping the present. You don’t want to offend the guy.
That’s prime sugar daddy material right there!
Hell, play your cards right, and you might get to be more than that.
I’ve been doing my damndest to score one of those rich bastards, but so far, my only repeat client is the dude who wants me to massage his scalp while singing him lullabies.
” She shuffles closer to me. “I might just tell Maggie that I want to wear a red dress next time. See if that nets me a bigger fish.”
My head snaps toward her. “What?”
“I can’t stand the bizarre shit anymore. Sometimes the things they ask for feel more intimate than sex would. I might as well earn more if I have to suffer through that.”
“It doesn’t mean that—”
“Two cars just pulled up,” Tinia butts in. She squeezes between Rina and me and sets a few bowls containing a variety of sauces on the buffet table. “We need to scram. Stat.”
Taking a step back, I give the table a final once-over.
We started on Saturday morning, getting everything organized for this cocktail party.
Don Spada doesn’t like having many visitors, but Ms. Zara insisted that he needed to strengthen ties with some of the prominent members of la Famiglia.
And since the don can’t say no to his wife, more than twenty people are coming to the Spada Estate tonight.
I made platters of cold cuts and trays of assorted cheeses yesterday, since they could be prepared a day ahead and I knew I’d have my hands full with baking today.
Technically, I’m off on Sundays, but knowing how important this event is for my employers, I didn’t want to leave it in the caterers’ hands.
A chunk of my morning went to garnishing the various dishes, and I made more salads and cut up veggies and fruits for additional serving displays.
The rest of the time, I rushed around the kitchen, whipping up puddings and bite-sized baked desserts, and directing Tinia while she decorated each new batch of sweets once it was ready to go.
It was chaotic, but I loved each minute of it.
Especially getting to make so many desserts I love.
“I think this looks good.” I nod, satisfied with how everything turned out.
The girls run back to the kitchen while I adjust the trays and platters one more time, making sure the buffet setup is immaculate for the Spada guests, so I’m on my own when I exit the newly remodeled solarium where the cocktail reception will be held.
As I hurry across the foyer toward the back rooms and the kitchen, Don Spada opens the front door.
With him are Brio Saccone and his wife. And the retired capo’s stepdaughter. Lucrezia.
In a panic, I look for somewhere I can dart off to avoid a run-in with my half sister.
She hasn’t noticed me yet, too busy harping to a butler about how she wants him to handle her fur coat.
In the meantime, Capo Brio and Lucrezia’s mother have already discarded their coats with a houseman and are following Don Spada down the hall toward the solarium.
None of them pays me any mind as they pass, too engaged in a discussion about the Boston holiday market in Seaport.