Page 23 of When She Unravels
He silences me by shoving the bar past my lips.
For a millisecond, I think I can taste him on the surface. Whiskey and chocolate and something brutally decadent.
I push the ridiculous thought away. It doesn’t matter to me what he tastes like.
He watches me chew, his gaze falling to my lips for a brief moment.
I lick my bottom lip to sweep up a crumb. His eyes narrow.
“Better get back to work.” He hands me the bar. I guess he’s done with feeding me like I’m some wild animal. “This room better be spotless if you want to return tomorrow.”
I don’t dignify that with a response.
By the time I’m done, six hours later, I can see my reflection in the floor in nearly every surface. Inez comes by to inspect my work.
“Vale, bien hecho,” she says after checking the corners for dust with her index finger. “You did a good job.”
“Thank you. What else can I do?”
She appraises me, and when her thin lips curl into a slight smile, I feel a small triumph. At least I’m winning her over.
“You’re done for today. Come back tomorrow at eleven.”
One day down, four more to go.
CHAPTER8
VALENTINA
The restof the week ticks by. I keep my head down and do whatever Inez tells me to—clean the toilets, mop the floors, polish the mirrors, vacuum the VIP section, and on and on. By the time Friday rolls around, I’ve learned the entire layout of the club, and it doesn’t feel so massive anymore. The daytime staff start to recognize me and even say hello.
Then comes Friday, and with it, my final assignment. De Rossi’s office.
I have to admit, I’m a bit curious to see where he spends his time. Ras meets me when I arrive and walks me down a hall I’ve only passed through a few times before. We stop in front of a heavy-looking door, and he knocks. No response.
“Guess we’ll have to come back later,” I say.
“I have a spare key. Don’t touch anything you’re not supposed to.” Ras turns his key inside the lock and holds open the door for me.
Well, it’s definitely way fancier that I expected it to be. The room reminds me of my Papà’s office back home, with dark oak shelves laden with books and a massive desk adorned with geometrical paperweights. My attentions snags on a picture frame hanging on one of the walls. I make a note to examine it more closely once Ras leaves.
“He wants everything dusted, the floor swept and mopped. Said something about a big cobweb in the corner behind his desk.”
“Lovely,” I mutter. “Have you been working for him for a while?”
Ras nods. “He’s the only boss I’ve ever had.”
“How did you get your job? Did he have you scrub floors too?”
“No, that’s just for you.”
“I feel so special.”
“Him and I go way back,” Ras says vaguely, clearly trying to end this conversation. “I’ve got somewhere else I need to be. Any questions before I leave?”
“Yeah, one.”
He cocks his head. “Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like it?”
