Strictly Business (Strangers #2)
Chapter One - Michaela
Chapter One
MICHAELA
WHAT SHE DOESN’T KNOW won’t hurt her…or me. Caitlin hasn’t sent me a warning text yet. I must be safe, I hope so, because I am so late. Shocker, I know. Me, late? Never.
I zigzag through the crowd on Columbus Circle, regretting my choice in heels this morning — these things are not made for running through the streets of Manhattan. Crossing over Eighth, I throw a stern glance at the tourist who bumps into me, almost spilling my coffee. I do not have time to deal with a coffee stain on my white shirt. Again, probably not my best fashion choice for mid-July weather. I can feel sweat already wetting certain parts of my shirt as I walk into our office building.
Each time the elevator dings, I feel the anxiety rising in my chest because I’m not sure what awaits me when I get there. Twentieth Floor , the robotic voice announces. The doors part to reveal DV Designs in big, bold letters. Caitlin leans over the front desk, reaching for something, and Bella rolls her eyes before handing her the office phone. Bella’s eyes glance to the elevator when she hears the door open and motions for Caitlin to turn around. Meeting my stare, Caitlin breathes a sigh of relief, “You’re here! Finally. Bethany called, she said—”
“Cait, stop. Is she here?”
A grimace, “In your office.”
“Shit,” I sigh. “Of course, she’s running early when—”
“You’re late,” a familiar voice says from behind her.
Caitlin offers a sympathetic smile before I take a deep breath, put a smile on my face, and look over her shoulder to see my boss and best friend, Nina Villa. Owner of DV Designs and co-owner of Villa Inc., with her older brother Kai. We’ve been friends since my freshman year at Rosecliffe University. She stands with a smirk by the reception desk, a little girl clinging to her black blazer.
The girl’s face lights up when she recognizes me. “Aunt Michaela!”
“Hi, Leia,” I bend down to hug her.
“Caitlin, can you take Ophelia? Michaela and I have some things to discuss,” Nina instructs.
Dead. I’m so dead.
“C’mon Leia, I’m pretty sure I saw some popsicles in the freezer yesterday. Then we can go bother Jaime.”
“Who’s Jaime?” Ophelia asks taking Caitlin’s hand and following her down the hallway.
Without a word, Nina turns on her heel and expects me to follow. The one time (okay, maybe not the one time, but still, the one time) I’m late, Nina decides to show up on time. Not just on time, early . It’s very Nina…
Her corner office overlooks the expansive cityscape, but more importantly, it overlooks Central Park — her favorite place in all of Manhattan. Not surprising, say I blame her, considering it’s where she and her husband finally stopped trying to act like they weren’t made for each other. It only took a little push from yours truly. A glass-top desk with marbled legs faces the door. Bookshelves line the wall to the right full of books and knicknacks she has picked up throughout the years. A conference table sits in front of the shelves, offering a private meeting space away from the prying eyes that lurk outside the usual conference rooms — she typically reserves it for more private clients. In the far-left corner, a white sofa with an extra-long chaise. Blue-gray pillows are set to appear as if they happened to land that way. A blue oriental rug rests beneath a marble coffee table. She designed her space, but let me handle the rest of the office. Her office is much grander than mine, but I suppose that’s to be expected since you’re the big boss.
I close the door but don’t turn to face her yet, I can’t.
Trust me, I deserve what’s coming. Nina has given me a lot of “second” chances, and I keep messing them up. I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t fire me, but I think my luck is about to run out.
I twist the locket around my neck between my fingers and finally turn to face her. She sits on the edge of the desk, arms crossed, with an expectant look on her face. “Let me just start by saying I’m sorry, I know—”
“How many times this month?” she asks.
“This is only the fourth time!”
Nina scoffs, “Fourth time… Questa settimana. The fourth time this week, Michaela.” She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated. Rightfully so. I didn’t think she knew how often I’ve been late lately, but things have been… Look, I have a good excuse, I can’t tell her. I should tell her, she is my best friend, and she’d understand, it might even save me the lecture, but I’m not ready to share it with anyone. "Do you know what day it is?” A rhetorical question. “It’s Thursday , the fourth day of the week. I didn’t promote you so you could come and go as you please. I need someone who’s going to be here. Someone I can trust. What kind of an example is it for everyone else if you’re showing up late every day?”
Excuses start swimming through my mind, and I’m grasping for anything that will keep me off the ledge for a bit longer. “I have meetings, I have—”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Nina sighs, “Yes, you have duties and responsibilities that require you to be out of the office, but the days you don’t, you’re supposed to be here. On time. You’re supposed to be available because I can’t be. I can’t be everywhere at once.”
“I’m sorry, Nin. I don’t want to disappoint you. I don't — I just have a lot going on right now.”
Her eyes soften a little, and her shoulders fall with a sigh. “And that’s fine, Michaela. You’ve had a lot going on, at least that’s what you say, but I need to know you can handle this despite everything else. If not, I’ll find someone who can.”
“I can, I promise. It won't happen again. Not even one minute."
“You have one month, Michaela.”
Fuck, she said it.
“Two.”
“One.”
“One and a half?” I try one last negotiation, but Nina doesn’t budge, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. I can’t blame her; she’s given me more chances than anyone else would. To ask more of her wouldn’t be fair.
“What's going on with you?”
"Nothing,” I groan, and it feels like a child on the receiving end of a lecture from their parents. “Everything is fine, Nin.”
Nina’s brow quirks in response. She knows I’m not telling her the truth, but will she ask? Nope. She’ll let it go…for now. She has too much other shit going on to worry about whatever mess I’ve created. But, I have to be careful because her trust and patience with me are starting to wear thin.
“Is David home?” she asks changing the subject. “You’re welcome to bring him over for dinner later. Haven’t seen him in a while, Kai will be there. He’s picking up Ophelia.”
“No, he’s in D.C. I don’t think I’ll make it tonight, Nin; I have some stuff to do around the house.”
“Do it tomorrow.” She bats her bright green eyes at me. Normally, that might work, but I’m not in the mood to spend the night with the Villa siblings. “You can’t skip out on dinner; Ophelia would be heartbroken.” Nina sits behind her desk and the wall between boss and best friend comes down. “You do look kinda tired, Mic. Why don’t you go home after you meet with Angela? Get some rest, and come back refreshed tomorrow. I can take care of whatever they need around here.”
“When’s the last time you ran an office?” I meant it more as a joke, but I can tell by the tightening of her jaw she doesn’t find the humor in it. “I just mean, you’re not running them — the offices. Not really. You have other people do the dirty work for you. There’s a difference.”
Nina laces her fingers together and leans forward on the glass top. “I have ten offices across this country, and I know what’s happening in each one, but please, if you have something to say, ti suggerisco di sputarlo.”
I stay quiet — it seems like the safer option right now.
The Italian flows quickly, and without pause, I have a hard time keeping up with no idea what she just said, but I know it’s nothing good. I swallow the lump in my throat. Honestly, I’m not sure what possesses me to do it, but the filter between my brain and the mouth falters when the next thought enters my mind. “Just because you’re upset you haven’t fucked your husband in over a month doesn’t mean you can take it out on the rest of us.”
“Fuck you, Michaela." The calmness when she speaks doesn’t match the look in her eye, and it sets my nerves on edge.
Okay, so maybe what I said was a little uncalled for (a lot uncalled for) and highly unprofessional, but she should know I didn’t mean it that way. “Nina—”
“Un mese, Michaela,” she says through gritted teeth. “Un mese. Se non riesci a mettere insieme la tua merda—” A knock interrupts her before Bella steps into the office.
“Hey, Nina… Oh! Sorry, I didn’t —”
“It’s fine, Bella. Michaela was leaving.” Nina glares at me, “Go home and get some sleep. Be ready for our meeting with the Adler twins tomorrow morning.”
She doesn’t need to add the “or else.” It’s pretty obvious.
Nina raises her hand when I try to apologize, and I take the hint. Bella pats my arm in what is meant to be comforting as I pass through the door, but it only makes a new wave of nausea roll over me.
“Bella,” I hear Nina say. “Tell Angela she’ll be meeting with me today. You can send her to my office when she arrives.”