Page 11 of The Boss

Whoever this is wants us to look into the Russos? Why? We already know who did this. These messages seem to be nothing but someone trying to push themselves into this situation with us. And I know Drew’s right. If there's anything of value or threatening, I need to take it to Gino, but I don’t want to yet.

FIVE

GINO

I swear this woman doesn’t know simple when it comes to food, and I do love her for it. So, I know when I head back downstairs, there will be an entire kitchen filled with food ready to eat.

When I came back home, I immediately heard the soft Swan Lake music, so I followed it, knowing it would lead me to her. I watched her for a few minutes before she noticed me, reciting the same sequence I’ve seen her do before.

She’s always said she never wanted to do it professionally, but I can tell how much joy and happiness it brings her, which is why when she asked to redesign the sunroom into a private dance studio, I couldn’t say no.

She and I have spent so much time alone that I’m pretty sure everyone assumes we’ve been in secret for years, but I can only wish that were true. Believe me, I’ve tried. But I’ve kept my distance, knowing something is holding her back.

My father and her parents go way back to their college days, and I know that plays into it. And she’s still using the excuse that I’m her boss, which I’m really not. Regardless of what anyone says, we’re equals.

After all these years, I still don’t know how I got her to agree to join this. She’s always made it known how much she dislikes this whole mafia thing, and I have, on more than one occasion, assumed she is going to walk out that door.

Sitting down at my desk, I start to look at all of the photos from Mateo’s kidnapping that Drew has been able to pull from security cameras. Each one shows a different stage of Mateo’s drugging until he’s in the van. The first shows coffee being placed on the table with Lorenzo staring at him, waiting for him to drink it. Once he does, the relief on Lorenzo’s face is evident. But the shock on Salvo’s is fresh and raw.

I analyze every image long enough that it feels as though I’m seeing double.

Sending him to Italy was supposed to be easy. He arrived there, and then he signed the deal with Anthony, Lorenzo’s father. Lorenzo and Salvo then took him to celebrate the deal being finalized, while both Mateo and I were oblivious to how bad an idea that was.

With my head buried so deep in the evidence, I don’t notice anyone’s entered my office until the plate of food is placed in front of me. It looks just as delicious as it smells, with chicken tossed in a spicy chili lemongrass sauce with rice and vegetables on the side.

Before I can get any words out, she says, “I know you said simple, and this is simple. I promise the longest thing to make was the rice, and that was in the rice cooker.” She sighs. “I know you also said to tell you when it was ready, but I called your name three times, and you didn’t reply, so I'm bringing it to you.”

Before I can say anything, she walks out of the room.

She’s hiding again, but I’ve had enough of it.

I grab my plate and head downstairs.

My father built this house for my mother, and she designed it thirty years ago. The first floor was designed with hosting in mind. When you walk into the entryway, the staircase takes center stage. On the left are the library, gym, and the sunroom. To the right is the kitchen, family room, and formal dining area. Upstairs are the six bedrooms.

When he died, I didn’t want to change much, but I did want to make it mine. The only thing I really changed was updating some of the 90s aesthetic, and I didn’t just change everything to millennial gray. I added blues and greens throughout the house. Every room has a pop of color to make it lively again.

Walking into the kitchen, it’s a large open-concept layout with state-of-the-art appliances and an extra-large marble island that could be used for seating and presenting a buffet of food when I wanted to host everyone for dinner.

The guys give me shit for giving Juliet all the power in designing parts of this house, and they joke that I’m in love with her—well, they aren’t wrong on that point. One of the dining rooms became a library, and the back sunroom became her dance studio. I have truly been in love with Juliet Tran since I met her the first day in Business 101 class, ten years ago.

I sit at the bar next to her as she eats her lunch.

I turn to her, and for a moment I stare at her.

God, she’s beautiful. Everything about her is. Her high cheekbones and long eyelashes. And I personally love the small freckle under her left eye.

I take a breath. “Jules, is something wrong?”

She turns to face me and sits there quietly.

“I know you're upset about Mateo, but you can talk to me,” I whisper.

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Calling you what?” I ask.

“Jules; you haven’t called me that in years.”