Page 24 of Body of Trust

“DeLuca made a comment.”

“Ignore him. He’s just repeating gossip. That’s what happens in these situations. These women can’t keep hold of their men, so they gossip with one another about everyone else’s and pass the gossip on to their husbands. Your father is fine.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to worry you. Like the time he got into a car accident and didn’t tell you until he came home without a car.”

She hums, remembering the day. “Raphael is full of surprises. He also always tells me what’s going on.”

“Keep me updated too. I need to know the details.” I look toward DeLuca’s office and grimace. Lowering my head, I place my hand over the receiver and ask quietly, “Mom, is there a reason why Dad wanted me to work here?”

Don’t ask, don’t tell is the Sorrentino way, and I’m punishing her for doing as we’ve only been told. I’m asking; therefore, I’m the one breaking the rules.

“Of course,” she starts, and my heart sinks at the thought of some ulterior motive. “He knows Angelo DeLuca. Your father only wants you around people he can trust. You chose to get a degree in accounting, and he knew a man with one of the top five firms.”

I breathe, relieved. “You’re right. That makes sense.”

“Now, Amelia, come straight home, and we can talk more in person.”

“I love you, Mom,” I say to end the conversation without having to explain—again—that I’m not going back to her house.

We hang up, and I get right on the task of gathering the files DeLuca asked for. I’m efficient in my work, and I can complete a project in half the time of other employees. Some say it’s because I’m a fast reader. My eyes skim over the numbers with ease. I know it’s because I don’t believe in long lunch hours and coffee breaks. Go to work, do your job, go home. That’s the Amelia Sorrentino way.

My files are on DeLuca’s desk by the end of the day, and I’m at the bus stop just in time to get a vacant seat. Everyone who comes on after me has to stand.

Going to work today was the right decision. I needed the normalcy, and it helped keep my nerves relatively calm. Still, now that I’m on the bus, I keep my head alert. Not just for danger, but also for a certain blue-eyed man.

I search to see if Jesse is anywhere in sight. It stings a little that he’s not here, although I did ask him to leave me alone.

With my phone now charged, I close my eyes and listen to the music of The Fray, letting the melancholy sounds soothe me as I look out the window and watch my city pass by. From the narrow streets of downtown Manhattan and the Wall Street Bull to the warehouses along Brooklyn’s waterfront, over the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge and the glistening waters near the Statue of Liberty, and onto the local streets of the borough I call home, I listen to music and find comfort in my city.

I get off the bus and walk to my car. The drive to my building passes in a blur, and I’m relieved to pull into the parking spot.

My tenth-floor apartment has one bedroom, a bathroom, and open kitchen, and through my window, I can see the Freedom Tower in downtown Manhattan. There’s no doorman or fancy lobby, but it’s mine, and I love it.

I let myself into my place and am startled by the sight of someone sitting on my living room sofa, causing me to fall backward into the wall and clutch my chest in fright.

“Hey, bitch. Get dressed because we’re going out.” Sienna gets up from the couch and walks toward me in a silver minidress with one shoulder.

“Jesus … you scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing here?” My hand is on my heart as it beats in panic mode.

Her long hair is flowing in curls, bouncing as she glides over. “I have a key, obviously. I’ve totally let myself into your apartment a thousand times before. What’s the problem?”

I push off the wall and toss my bag on the table. “I guess I’ve been a bit jittery lately.”

“Understandably! That happens to be exactly why we need to go out dancing.”

“It’s Monday. No one goes dancing on a Monday.” I lower my brows while she raises hers.

“When did you get so old? We live in New York City, the city that never sleeps. You can go clubbing at two in the afternoon if you want. And tonight just happens to be house night at Elektra.”

I walk to the refrigerator and open it, grabbing a bottle of VitaminWater. “I’m not in the mood to go dancing. This weekend wore me out.” Twisting the cap, I take a hefty drink.

“I know. We almost died on Friday night.”

“Correction: I almost died. You left.”

“Ten more minutes—”

“And you would have perished. You’re right. It’s frightening. I still don’t want to go out.”