Chương 7 - THE FIRST DATE CAME AFTER THE LAST PAYCHECK
A year passed before Carmine asked Nell to dinner.
By then, she had not worked for him in eighteen months.
Fontaine & Daughter employed nine people.
Then twelve.
Nell paid overtime.
Had written schedules.
Health insurance after the first profitable year.
Every employee had a name on the staff board.
That mattered to her more than customers understood.
One Tuesday evening, Carmine entered after closing.
Nell was calculating flour costs.
“You’re late.”
“I’m a customer.”
“We’re closed.”
“Then I’m a trespasser.”
“More honest.”
He smiled.
Then became serious.
“Dinner.”
Nell looked up.
“What about it?”
“With me.”
She stared.
Carmine Orsini, apparently capable of confronting armed rivals without visible fear, looked nervous asking a baker to dinner.
Interesting.
“Is this because I worked for you?”
“No.”
“Because you feel guilty?”
“No.”
“Because Palmira is manipulating both of us?”
A pause.
“That is possible.”
Nell laughed.
Carmine continued:
“I like talking to you.”
“That’s dangerous.”
“I know.”
“And if I say no?”
“I buy coffee next week and complain about prices.”
“You already complain.”
“Exactly.”
Nell studied him.
The old power imbalance had not vanished.
Carmine was still wealthy.
Connected.
Feared.
Nell owned a bakery with a bank loan.
Reality mattered.
But so did the fact that she no longer depended on him for housing, wages, insurance, or references.
“No private restaurant.”
“Fine.”
“No place you own.”
“Fine.”
“No car sent for me.”
“Fine.”
“No security sitting at the next table.”
He hesitated.
“Nell.”
“No.”
“Across the street?”
She thought.
“Fine.”
He exhaled.
“Friday?”
“Yes.”
Their first date was at a Vietnamese restaurant in Mid-City.
Carmine had never eaten there.
Nell ordered for herself.
He did not interfere.
Revolutionary.
They talked about almost nothing important for the first hour.
Movies.
Palmira’s habit of cheating at cards.
Emmett’s rehabilitation.
Carmine’s terrible taste in ties.
Then Nell asked:
“Have you ever been in love?”
Carmine stared.
“That escalated.”
“You control criminal-adjacent logistics. Survive.”
He almost smiled.
“Once.”
“What happened?”
“She wanted a life I couldn’t give without changing.”
“And?”
“I didn’t change.”
Nell waited.
“She left.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Sometimes.”
Good answer.
Not romanticized purity.
Nell told him about her own almost-fiancé.
Before the fire.
A man named Lucas who wanted to move to Atlanta.
After the fire, he stayed six months.
Then left.
Not cruelly.
He simply could not keep building his life around catastrophe.
Nell hated him for a year.
Then understood.
“Some people are temporary.”
Carmine said.
“Yes.”
“That doesn't make them false.”
She looked at him.
“No.”
Their second date happened three weeks later.
Third a month after.
Slow.
Carmine did not buy jewelry.
Nell did not bake free pies.
They both found this strangely intimate.
One evening after dinner, he walked her to the bakery.
“Can I kiss you?”
Nell stared.
“Did Palmira teach you that?”
“No.”
“Therapist?”
“No therapist.”
“You should get one.”
“I’m beginning to regret this question.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
The kiss was soft.
Short.
Chosen.
When they stepped apart, Carmine looked surprised.
“What?”
Nell asked.
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“I thought about doing that for months.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“It was less terrifying in theory.”
She laughed.
Good.
May you like
Powerful men should be terrified by things they could not command.
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