Chapter 5 - ALINA QUITS
The first thing Alina did after receiving Rafael’s amended investigative report was quit her job.
Vincent stared at the resignation letter.
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“No?”
“Poor response.”
“Extremely.”
He sat.
“Why?”
“Because Mia knows you.”
“She likes you.”
“I work in your house.”
“That is currently true.”
She folded her arms.
“And the police may want me as a witness in an investigation connected to your company.”
“Also true.”
“And my late husband may have been exposing fraud involving your family.”
“Yes.”
“And you have started asking whether Mia ate breakfast.”
Vincent blinked.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything.”
He became still.
Alina continued.
“I don't know what this is becoming.”
“Neither do I.”
“Good.”
“But I know I cannot figure it out while you sign my paycheck.”
That landed.
He looked toward her resignation letter.
“What will you do?”
“Work.”
“I assumed.”
“My sister manages a pediatric dental office.”
“She needs an administrator.”
Vincent frowned.
“You clean houses.”
“I did office administration before Mia.”
He looked embarrassed.
“You never asked.”
“No.”
Exactly.
One more assumption.
Alina softened.
“I took domestic work because the estate included housing.”
“After Rafael died, I needed stable rent more than I needed a résumé.”
Vincent nodded.
“Will the new job pay enough?”
She looked at him.
Wrong question.
He knew immediately.
“Sorry.”
“Better.”
“What about housing?”
“Also not your problem.”
“I hate this.”
She smiled.
“I know.”
Mia’s last day at the estate mattered more than Alina’s.
She ran through the foyer carrying her wooden truck.
Dominic gave her a child-sized security badge reading:
MIA – CHIEF CAR INSPECTOR
Alina laughed.
Vincent did not.
“This encourages her.”
“That is the point,” Dominic said.
Mia hugged Vincent’s leg.
He froze.
Then awkwardly rested one hand on her back.
“Blue car,” she reminded him.
“I remember.”
He had, in fact, replaced the black SUV.
Not because a toddler ordered him to.
That was his story.
Nobody believed him.
Alina picked up Mia’s coat.
“We should go.”
Vincent looked at her.
“Can I call?”
She paused.
“About what?”
He had no practiced answer.
Good.
“Dinner.”
“When?”
“Not tonight.”
She smiled faintly.
“Ask me in six months.”
His eyebrows rose.
“Six?”
“You've known me eight months as an employee.”
“I'd like to know who you are when you're not one.”
He stared.
Then nodded.
“Six months.”
He waited five.
Then sent:
Technically, next Thursday begins month six.
Alina laughed for five minutes.
She replied:
Ask properly.
The phone rang thirty seconds later.
“Alina Ruiz.”
“Yes?”
“Would you have dinner with me next Thursday?”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
Their first date happened at a restaurant Vincent did not own.
Alina checked.
He pretended offense.
Mia stayed with Sofia.
No guards at the table.
One outside.
Compromise.
Dinner was unexpectedly ordinary.
Vincent hated mushrooms.
Alina loved baseball.
He had read six biographies of Roman emperors.
She called that a warning sign.
He laughed more than people expected him to.
Then Alina asked:
“What happens if Luca is convicted?”
“Legal consequences.”
“And family?”
“Some will never forgive me.”
“Does that hurt?”
“Yes.”
She appreciated the answer.
Not:
I don't care.
He cared.
He simply did not let caring determine everything.
Then Vincent asked about Rafael.
Alina’s body stiffened.
He noticed.
“You don't have to.”
“No.”
She took a breath.
“I want to.”
Rafael had been funny.
Messy.
A terrible singer.
A good father for the fourteen months he got to be one.
He bought Mia’s wooden truck before she was born.
Vincent listened.
Did not compete with a dead man.
That mattered.
At the end of dinner he walked her to her car.
“Can I kiss you?”
Alina almost laughed.
“The feared Vincent Marchetti asks?”
“I’ve been retrained.”
“By whom?”
“A tyrannical former employee.”
She smiled.
Then:
“No.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
She kissed his cheek instead.
“Goodnight.”
May you like
Vincent stood alone in the parking lot looking absurdly happy.
Dominic, waiting thirty feet away, pretended not to see.
