Page 4 of The Boss

I keep a steady rhythm, driving into her as her breaths grow heavier. It’s only a few minutes before I can feel myself getting close, my control slipping with every thrust.

Leaning down, I kiss her again, swallowing the sounds that spill from her lips. Her moans grow louder, more desperate, and I know she’s right there with me.

After a few more thrusts, I groan her name, the sound breaking between us as we both come together.

The release hits me harder than it ever has before.

When the moment settles, I pull away, discarding the condom before grabbing a washcloth to clean us both up.

When I wake up, she’s not beside me in bed.

When I see her downstairs, she acts like nothing happened. Acts like I’m her boss, not her friend of eight years, and she’s not the person who has helped me so much. Maybe I read her wrong all these years.

Or maybe I was that bad in bed.

The memory of that night plagues me every day. Anytime I see her, I think of it. The night when I wanted to finally tell Juliet how I felt. But she didn’t see it that way, and I didn’t help her understand how much I want and need her.

The last two years haven’t been the same. The sarcasm and banter we shared in private aren’t there as often as they once were. But I can’t think about that, considering the situation at hand.

Getting up from bed, I stretch, throw on black slacks and a gray button-down shirt, and walk out of my room to start a new day that will probably get worse.

TWO

JULIET

I should be used to it by now—the blaring sound of my alarm at six in the morning—but I’m not.

The last few days have been absolute hell; I have never seen the guys like this. They're somber, just going through the motions. I think everyone is thinking the same thing: how the fuck did we get here?

I can tell you how.

Lorenzo Russo, the fucking asshole. Mateo is missing, but the likelihood they’ll kill him is low. We need to figure out how to find him without Gino going on a rampage.

I quickly put on jeans and my favorite pink sweater, grab my laptop, and head downstairs into the kitchen, where I stand at the edge of the bar counter.

A few years ago, Antonio gave me this laptop. He always treated me more like a daughter than an employee, and anyone who knew him knew that. He and my parents met back in college, and their friendship lasted until he died.

I look over my emails from the night before, hoping there’s some new information on Mateo’s disappearance. The police won’t help one bit; they think he’s another mafia guy.

There’s nothing regarding the matter, but there is something that catches my eye.

“Damn it,” I mutter to myself as I glance over the Third Street transaction Gino put together, but something doesn’t add up.

I need to dig into it more before I bring it up.

“What?” Gino all but yells from the hallway.

I quickly close my laptop and look up to see Gino staring down at me.

“Nothing,” I reply quickly.

He doesn’t say anything as he walks around me to the coffee machine, which is pretty much the extent of all of our interaction since we slept together.

Back then, I left that situation before I made it worse.

In front of everyone, we look like two close friends, but now we’re strangers. I should have talked to him the next day. I should’ve told him I don’t regret sleeping with him. It was honestly better than any other sexual interaction I’ve had. But I didn't want him to think I used him in his grief.

That night it felt like we finally got past the awkward ‘will they, won’t they’ tension between us.