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I’m torn between wanting to eavesdrop at the door and maintaining my composure in the workplace.
Professionalism wins, and I force myself to remain at my desk, but my mind remains fixated on that closed door, behind which lies the fate of my family.
The sudden vibration of my phone against the desk jolts me. I glance at the caller ID – it’s Mia, my sister. Her name on the screen brings a mix of comfort and anxiety. I quickly answer, trying to mask the turmoil in my voice.
“Hey, Mia, what’s up?” I ask, attempting a tone of normalcy.
Her response is immediate, her voice quivering with a fear that cuts straight to my heart. “Is he with you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“They’re here looking for him! I’m so scared,” she stammers out, the words tumbling over each other in her haste. “They’ve got guns.”
“Wait, who’s got guns?”
“These two men. They say Dad owes them money. Hang on, wait.” She goes silent for a second. “That’s weird. They just walked off.”
I picture her, wide-eyed and frightened, in our tiny family home, a place that should be a safe haven.
My grip on the phone tightens, a protective instinct for my younger sister kicking in, even though I’m miles away and feeling just as helpless.
“I don’t get it,” she continues. “Why did they leave? Did he pay them?”
I’m at a loss for words, the same confusion swirling in my mind. “I don’t know, Mia. But I’m glad you’re safe,” I say, trying to offer some semblance of comfort.
I look again at the office. What kind of deal are they cooking up in there?
The door to Rafael’s office opens. My eyes instinctively dart towards the sound, and I see my father stepping out.
The sight of him stops my breath for a moment - he’s wearing a smile, something so rare and unexpected that it seems almost out of place on his usually troubled face.
Last time he smiled like that, I was twelve, and he’d had three horses come in on the same day. He promised us a trip to Disneyland. I was packing a week later when he walked into my room.
He burst into tears and told me the money was all gone. I’ve never trusted him since.
As he passes by my desk, our eyes meet briefly. There’s a glint of something like gratitude, maybe even triumph, in his gaze.
It’s a look that raises more questions than it answers. He doesn’t stop to talk, only to mutter, “Thanks for your help,” before moving on. “You saved my life.”
“I haven’t done anything,” I reply, but he’s already gone.
I feel eyes on me and turn. Mr. Bianchi’s door is open, and he’s behind his desk, staring straight at me with brooding eyes.
Did he offer help? Was there some deal struck? The possibilities spin through my mind, each more baffling than the last.
I lean in closer over my work, my pen tracing the curves of the car on my sketchpad, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
“I already found perfection,” I murmur under my breath, a mantra to keep the doubts at bay. “Just a shame he’s not interested in me.”
2
RAFAEL
Istand motionless, my eyes fixed on the figure of Amelia as she makes her way across the dealership lot to her battered old car, so out of place amongst the luxury vehicles we sell.
My gaze is fixed on her ass. I want that ass in my lap, my hands slapping down on it, drawing moans and gasps from those luscious lips of hers.
My cock twitches at the thought. I almost got there today, almost told her I’m going to spank her if she fucks up again. Somehow, I managed to resist.
