9. Collins
NINE
COLLINS
Ow, my head.
I pressed the heels of my palms to my eyes, trying to scrub away the ache pounding inside my skull and gunk from my lashes.
What the hell?
Last night came back in roaring clarity. I’d been so... Petulant and jealous and... Ow. My head. With a whimper, I laid back down, not ready in any shape or form to face my boss.
He was going to fire me. Of that, I was sure.
He had no reason not to. I drank his wine.
Practically fucked one of his bodyguards on his couch .
I took advantage of Miceli and Robbie’s kindness.
No, I took advantage of more than his kindness.
I also was about to use Robbie to get back at Miceli. He didn’t deserve that, either.
I’m such an idiot.
My actions put Kyle and me back in danger. If Miceli fired me today, we’d be right back where we started. Scrimping on money, living from hotel to hotel and trying to stay alive. I was exhausted. My will to go on was waning. Going back to that life would get us killed. I had no doubts.
I’d have to do my best by apologizing for my transgression and hope beyond hope, Miceli forgave me.
Then I’d have to bury my emotions. He saw straight through all of my walls last night and called me out for what I was doing.
However, he hadn’t thought twice about flaunting his relationship in front of— No, stop it.
His life is his own. You aren’t his wife or his girlfriend. He never promised you anything.
After slipping out of bed, I went to my bathroom for a shower.
I should have taken one last night, but I’d been embarrassed and tipsy.
I’d even meant to tell Kyle we might have to leave, but seeing him sleeping so soundly, I couldn’t stand the thought of waking him.
I suppose, after I saw Miceli today, I’d have to tell Kyle the truth and help him pack.
Once I was washed, refreshed, but still hungover, I got out of the stall and dried off. A soft knock came at my bathroom door, and I answered. “Yeah?”
“A note was dropped off for you by Benny,” Kyle said. “I’ll make breakfast while you get ready.”
My heart sank. My stomach cramped and again I regretted the choices I made last night.
If I ever saw another bottle of Burgundy again.
.. Ugh . “Thanks.” I went through the motions of getting dressed and ready for work.
I didn’t have to read the letter to know what it stated.
Miceli was letting me go. Probably also included a point about having to meeting with HR and Miceli about workplace harassment.
I’d find that hilarious, of course. Have the rules of workplace relationships—since Miceli caught Robbie and me together—explained to me, because why not?
Then sign off on the fact I understood what happened and blah, blah, blah.
Fuck, I couldn’t believe I’d been ready to have sex with Robbie on the couch in the entertainment room of my boss’ house. Not my finest moment.
I fucked up so badly.
I got comfortable. Maybe a little cocky.
At some point, Miceli would’ve remembered me and want to protect me.
I let all of my frustrations and fears and resentments get the best of me.
I knew better, too. All I had to do was keep my head down and my mouth shut.
If I did that, at some point, soon, I could expose myself or organically make Miceli remember me.
I should have been honest from the start. Instead, I kept fucking this all up. Now, I was going to lose my—our protection from whoever had our parents killed.
I was such a fucking idiot.
After getting dressed and ready, I grabbed the letter.
“I’ll be back soon.” Even the smell of fresh coffee made my stomach roll.
The nervous energy coursing through me, along with the self-recrimination and guilt, made it impossible to eat or drink for fear it would all make a reappearance in a not so nice way.
Making the trek across the property to the backdoor of the house, I steeled myself for what was to come.
As I knocked on the door, not going straight in, like I could have, I wondered if there was a way to both apologize and keep my job.
Not barging in could be the first step. Treat the main house like a business, not a home.
I couldn’t get comfortable. Plus, if I was being terminated, might as well act like it.
Mrs. Petry opened the door then gave me a strange look, like she couldn’t figure out why I didn’t walk in.
Perhaps she didn’t know what was going on.
I wasn’t going to tell her if she didn’t know. I’d save the humiliation for later.
Any evidence Rocca and I had a mini party or that Robbie and I had our little romp in the front room had been removed. I cleared my throat and pasted on a smile. “Good morning, Mrs. P. Sorry I’m late for the meeting.”
She tilted her head. “A meeting?”
Shit. Was I wrong? I held up the envelope. “I received this?”
Mrs. Petry frowned. “I didn’t send that. Do you know what it says?”
Obviously, it was my notice of being fired. Duh. “No. Not yet.” Before she could state the obvious, I opened it. My brows furrowed. It was a simple sentence from Miceli. We should talk... “I suppose I should talk to Miceli first?”
She laughed. “Of course. Go on in. He’s drinking coffee. You look like you could use a cup yourself.”
Oh God. I wanted it. So bad. I also worried my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle the heaviness of the caffeine or sugar.
“Hold off for a minute. Please. I’m not feeling too well this morning.
” If there wasn’t any evidence left behind by our rendezvous, I wouldn’t implicate Robbie and me any more than I needed to.
Even if Miceli had been the one to find us on the couch about to get down and dirty.
“Would you like me to send for the doctor?” Mrs. Petry’s tone became serious. “Are you sure you should meet with Miceli today?”
“Uh...” Nervous and speechless, I stood there for a second. If I told her the truth, she’d be furious with me. Bad enough, Miceli probably already hated me. “No. I don’t need a doctor. I think I ate something last night that didn’t agree with me.”
She gave me a knowing nod. “What you need is some calming tea. You go see Mr. Daidone and I’ll bring your tea to you shortly.”
Knowing my luck, I’d already be fired by the time she arrived, which would be a waste of tea.
I knocked on the door to Miceli’s office, then waited a second before opening the door.
There he sat, the lights low, head resting against headrest of his chair.
His eyes were closed. Damn it, why did seeing him like this tug at my heart strings?
“Mr. Daidone?” I murmured, stepping further into his office, closing the door behind me, so no one could hear him fire me while also chewing me out for being such a fuckup.
“Ms. Attwood,” he murmured, glancing in my direction. “Please, sit.”
Right. I exhaled and took a seat across from him. My palms were sweaty. The rapid beat of my heart worried me as much as what he might say. I was utterly fucked here, and I had no one else to blame but myself. “I need to apologize for last night.”
He hummed, closing his eyes again.
“Should I turn off the ligh—wait, are you hungover?” I sat forward. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He peered at me with one eye open.
“I am,” I answered, being truthful. “I need to apologize for what happened last night, besides abusing my position here and trying to have an inappropriate relationship with Robbie. Mr. Daidone, I?—”
“Miceli...” He winked.
“Right, Miceli. God, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
I said some really inappropriate things to you last night and accused you of some awful things too.
I could blame the stress or worrying about my brother.
” About being hunted like wild dogs. “They’re all excuses.
I have no reasons or excuses for why I’d acted that way. I get it if you want to fire me, sir.”
“How can you be hungover and talk so much?” he groused, sitting forward, and folding his hands on the table.
“Genetics?” I grimaced. “I’m scared and nervous and worried. When I get like that, I talk.”
“I suppose this is what I can look forward to when Rocca is of age,” he said with a small laugh.
“She’s a good kid, Miceli. I understand why you have her here instead of with her friends, but she is craving some kind of social interaction, and I don’t mean with the staff.
Though they can talk to her, they’re not at her level.
” I’d seen it last night when we were watching the movie and eating dinner.
Rocca yearned for an escape from her reality.
Sure, I’d facilitated a small portion of such, but keeping her closed up in the house would do more harm in the long run.
“Did your parents keep you under thumb?” It was the first time he’d asked about them since I’d interviewed for the position.
It seemed so weird to talk about my mother and father, even though it was coming up on a year since they’d been murdered.
Weird how I don’t even know if they were buried or cremated.
That hurt more.
“Yes, and no.” I shrugged. “They took me with them places, sometimes. Other times I stayed home, or I went on sleepovers. As I got older, went into high school, and took part in activities, their home became the hub for all kinds of parties and stuff.”
“You don’t enjoy talking about them.” No. What I didn’t like was not being able to figure out what the angle was in this conversation.
“I miss them terribly,” I admitted. “So does Lucas.”
“Last night,” Miceli began, then paused as Mrs. Petry placed a single teacup filled with a yellowish colored tea in front of me. When she left, he began again. “Last night, I did something I regret.”
If he told me he slept with Brooke, I’d puke on his expensive rug.