“You tell me. You’ve been working for him for weeks now. Surely you’ve formed an opinion.”
“Is this part of the assessment?”
“Everything is part of the assessment.”
She holds my gaze for a beat. Then that professional mask slides back into place—the one she thinks protects her.
“Raffaele D’Amico. Senior partner at D’Amico & Associates. Handles high-profile cases for clients with complicated backgrounds. Known for his discretion and his results. Exposed to an unfortunate number of assault charges and money laundering schemes for someone who claims to practice legitimate law.”
“Thorough.” I move closer. “If a little pointed.”
“It’s what’s documented.”
“And undocumented?”
I stop at the corner of the desk. Lean against it.
“What would you say about him off the record, Miss Mendez? When no one’s listening?”
The formal address lands differently in this context. I see it register.
“I’d say he’s used to getting what he wants.”
“True.”
“I’d say he enjoys making people uncomfortable. Particularly people who work for him.”
“Also true. What else?”
“I’d say...” Her voice wavers. “He has boundary issues.”
“Harsh. But fair.”
I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. My fingers linger at the curve of her jaw.
“This Raffaele person.” My thumb traces along her cheekbone. “He sounds like quite the gentleman.”
“That’s not the word I’d use.”
“No?” I let my hand drift lower. Along her jaw. Down to the curve of her neck. Feel her swallow. “What word would you use?”
“Dangerous.”
“Mm. That’s a good one.” My fingers rest against her collarbone. Light. Barely there. “Any others?”
“Arrogant.”
“Fair.”
“Manipulative.”
“Now you’re just flattering me.”
She almost smiles.
“You said something interesting the other night.” I tilt her chin up. Force her to meet my eyes. “At the restaurant. You accused this D’Amico gentleman of certain... intentions.”
“I remember.”
