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“Wow.”
“Get to work, Alessa,” Dante growls from behind. I can just imagine his crossed arms and pissed off expression.
“You mean Stevie,” I whisper, not turning around.
He sighs, annoyed. “The password to your laptop is on a post-it note inside the top drawer.”
“Mhmmm.” I watch a seagull swoop down from mid air into the water before flying up with something in its beak. I jet out of the chair, running to the window with my jaw open as the seagull flies out of sight somewhere behind the rocks. “Did you see that?”
“Stevie,” he says harshly.
“Yes, boss man?” I turn to face him.
“Get to work. I don’t pay you to stare at the ocean.”
I take a deep breath, reluctantly walking back to my desk before sitting down and opening the top drawer. True to Dante’s words, there’s a post-it note with a password on it. Pulling it out, I open the laptop then log in. When I look up to tell Dante that it worked, I find him next to a glass door separating our offices. Seriously, am Ithatunobservant or does he just move like a ninja?
“What am I supposed to do?”
He looks at me like I’m stupid.
I sigh. “What doyouwant me to do? You’re the boss man.”
“Middle drawer,” he says, his eyes not leaving mine. There’s a small upward tilt to his lips, like he’s got a secret.
“Okay.” I nod and watch him walk into his office, leaving the door ajar, then sit in front of his desk
He opens his laptop, and after a minute starts typing away. I look between him, my laptop and the drawer. I just need to figure out what a normal assistant to a mafia boss would do, and I’ll be fine. Am I like his ‘second’ in a duel? If there’s a fight, I’m the one to hand him his gun and count to ten?
Let’s be honest—if there’s a gunfight, I want to be as far from it as possible, so if that’s what he expects from me, I’m out. I forgo opening the drawer for now and quickly google what an assistant does. Something I would have done yesterday had I not been locked out of my laptop and then hellbent on creating my lovely little program as revenge.
One of the first things that pops up is managing emails and calendars. So, like the best assistant Dante’s ever had, I open the email client and look through the completely empty calendar. Do I even have access to his? I dig around and find his email address in the address book, and request for him to share his calendar with me, then wait, watching his face. I can pinpoint the exact moment he sees my request, his eyes briefly flying to meet mine before ducking down to his screen. He clicks something, then smirks to himself. I don’t even have to check my screen to know that the request has been denied.
Annoyed at him, I go back to my calendar and start creating meetings, adding his email address.
‘Anger Management Classes atGoosfraba Institute’at lunchtime today. Then ‘Kill all my enemies so I can rule over the world like I’ve always dreamed of,’ scheduled forFriday at three in the afternoon. And my personal favourite—a recurring meeting on the first Tuesday of each month at nine in the morning—‘Back, sack and crack waxing appointment for Mr Santoro atWe Love Shiny Ballsin Blackwood’.
A message dings and a messenger box pops up on my screen. I knew that the last one was a winner.
I quickly go into the settings and change my screen name in the app.
Dante Santoro:Get to work.
The best assistant in the mafia:I’m working. One of my assistantly duties is to schedule your appointments.
Dante Santoro:Don’t test me.
Dante Santoro:Middle drawer.
I roll my eyes, then open the middle drawer of my desk, a large white box in it. I carefully lift it up and set it next to my laptop, hoping there are cupcakes inside, but knowing better than to aim that high where Dante is involved. There’s a small sticker on the side, ‘Wood cased HB pencils, unsharpened,’ and a stamped number below. I slowly lift the lid open, praying it’s a factory number or something, but once again, I should have known better. There are at least three hundred unsharpened pencils inside.
The messenger dings again. I close my eyes and count to five before looking up at my screen.
Dante Santoro:Looks like you’re going to be busy for a while. Shhhr shhr shhr.
Dante Santoro:I need them sharp enough to stab a person.
Motherfucker.
