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“Yes.”
“Haven’t seen her in years. As a child, she was always very polite, maybe a little spoiled, but well-behaved. Her parents doted on her endlessly. Her husband and son died some years ago. I run into Lorenzo from time to time, but the last time I saw Lara or Gloria was at the funeral.”
It’s difficult to ignore her experience with grief. It could be a double-edged sword, though. She might be an emotional wreck, who would make the situation worse. I’ll ask her about it during the interview.
“I’m considering bringing her into the house as an assistant for Daniela.”
“Hmmm.” He pauses for a few seconds, as though considering it. “Not a bad idea. With Valentina here, she’ll need some help juggling her social commitments as your wife and taking care of a child. She’ll get the hang of it quickly, I have no doubt, but it’s all new to her. Besides, she could use a woman to confide in. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced Lara’s a good choice. In addition to her regular education, she had tutors and the like. Her mother had big hopes that she’d marry above her station.” He sighs. “When will she start?”
“I haven’t made up my mind. I’m interviewing her in a few minutes.”
“Will Daniela have a chance to meet her before she’s hired?”
Fucking Victor.“Do not mention a word of this to Daniela until I’ve sorted it out,” I growl. But he has a point. Daniela should have an opportunity to meet with anyone I’m considering for the position. It doesn’t cost me a thing, because she won’t interview anyone who hasn’t already been vetted by me, and it might buy me some goodwill I can cash in later.No doubt I’ll need it at some point.
“Should I prepare dinner for eight o’clock?” Victor asks, changing the subject.
“Check with Daniela. I won’t be there this evening.”
* * *
Not five minutesafter I hang up with Victor, my secretary buzzes to let me know that Lara has arrived.
“Send her in.”
A slender woman with mousy-brown hair coiled into a bun enters the office. She looks harmless enough, but looks can be deceiving. It might be cliché, but that doesn’t make it any less true. In my briefcase, I carry a small jackknife that usually passes through security without issue. That knife can do a lot of damage—and it has.
Because she’s a woman, I stand to greet her. “It’s nice to see you, Lara. Have a seat, please.”
“It’s so nice to see you again too.” She lowers herself to the chair, crossing her ankles demurely, like someone who’s been to finishing school. “Congratulations on your marriage,” she gushes, before catching herself. “I’m so sorry about what happened. Thank God no one was hurt.”
If you only knew.
“Do you have any idea why I asked you here?”
She lowers her eyes. “Not the details. But when I heard you wanted to see me, I got so nervous that I—well—let’s just say Jacinto told me not to worry, that you weren’t angry with me, but that you wanted to discuss changing my position. He didn’t give me the specifics.”
I size her up while she talks, looking for anything that seems off, like Lucas described.
She’s still a bit of an ass-kisser, but mostly I see an articulate and polished woman who’s dressed professionally. I can see why Jacinto recommended her, and why Cristiano thought it made sense.
“That’s correct,” I reply. “Imighthave a position for you—no promises.”
“Of course,” she says, sitting taller.
“My wife needs a personal assistant. We have a twelve-year-old staying with us for the time being, who recently lost her mother. She was a friend of my wife’s. They’re both grieving, and I expect the next few months to be challenging. After what you’ve been through with your own family, do you feel as though you’re ready to deal with this kind of situation, day-to-day?”
“Certainly. But I’m not a counselor,” she adds, backpedaling a bit.
“I’m not looking for a counselor. What I’m asking is, will it be too much, too soon?”
She pauses, contemplating for a moment, which I appreciate. “To tell you the truth, you never get over losing a child, or a spouse. But it’s easier now than last year, and that was easier than the year before. Although during the holidays, it’s still quite painful. But sometimes focusing on someone else’s pain can ease your own. To answer your question,no, it’s not too soon.”
I have no reason to disbelieve her—not yet, anyway. “Tell me about your relationship with your neighbor, Elliot.”
She tips her head to the side. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand what you mean.”
“What type of relationship do you have with Elliot?” Her reaction to the question will tell me more than her answer.
