Page 92 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

“Tati, I said no.”

“That’s not like you.” She studies me now, her brows pulling together slightly, not challenging, but… trying to understand. “You don’t turn down clients like this. Especially not referrals at that level.”

“I’m turning this one down.”

“Because of Daniel?” She exhales, shifting her weight slightly, still holding the tablet but no longer looking at it. “Christine…”

“Handle the other two,” I cut in, zipping my bag. “Confirm dates, send proposals. This one, decline politely.”

She watches me for a second longer.

“Okay.” She nods.

But she doesn’t move.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” She asks.

“No.” I shake my head, throwing my bag over one shoulder.

“That didn’t sound convincing.”

“I’m not trying to convince you.” I shrug.

“Rude.” She shoots back, pretending to be offended. “Okay, but…” She sighs lightly, closing the tablet. “Keep me updated if anything changes.”

“Not sure there’s anything to update on the subject.” I head for the door, grabbing my keys as I go, already halfway out before she speaks again.

“You sure this isn’t going to come back around?” She calls after me.

I stop, turning to look at her.

“I’m not sure, Tati.” I exhale deeply, my shoulder slacking with it.

I leave.

As soon as I step outside the building, the evening air drags over my skin from different directions.

The street is winding down, the noise thinning, making it easier to move through without thinking too much.

I walk to the van, my heels clicking against the pavement, the familiar tension stiffening my shoulders now that I’ve stopped moving long enough to feel it.

I unlock it, sliding into the driver’s seat, tossing my bag onto the passenger side before I reach for the ignition.

My phone buzzes and I glance at it this time. It’s Daniel with another unknown number since I’ve blocked the last three.

: You’re starting to get very comfortable saying no to me.

My fingers still on the steering wheel.

Another message comes in before I can decide whether to respond.

: Don’t forget how persistent I can get when I want something.

My stomach folds, irritation swirling with unease.

: Don’t make me act, Babe.

I stare at the screen for a second longer than I should. I lock it, drop the phone into the cup holder, and start the engine.