For Angelo(32)

“But—”

“If it’s not me, it would be someone else. You have to know how much he needs to feel in control, right? So if it’s not me, he’s going to pick someone else and you wouldn’t want that because…”Julieta smiled smugly at her. “I’m the poorest among his staff.”

Lane couldn’t help laughing at Julieta’s proud declaration.

“It’s true. You can compare my bank account to everyone else’s and you’ll see. I’m dirt poor, and that’s supposed to make you feel more relaxed with me—” Julieta clapped her hands over her mouth. “Dio mio,” she groaned. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

Lane couldn’t stop laughing. “It’s okay.”

Julieta’s pretty face broke into a smile. “You forgive me?”

She nodded. “And you’re right, I’ll be most comfortable with you.”

Julieta nodded in satisfaction. “I thought so. That’s why I knew he’d be willing to pay me so much.” The evil grin on Julieta’s face made Lane laugh again.

Following a quick shower, Julieta took her to the kitchen, saying, “I thought you’d feel more comfortable here, rather than in the dining room where those jerks—” She turned pale beneath her tan. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

Lane shook her head.

But Julieta didn’t appear convinced this time, and her tone was filled with dismay as she apologized, “Mi dispiace molto.”

“It’s really okay,” Lane said honestly. “I don’t usually have panic attacks like last night. I promise.” She hesitated. “If it’s okay, what exactly did Angelo tell you and the staff about me?”

“That you suffer from a trauma in the past which causes you to be afraid or anxious around wealthy people and rich-looking places…” Julieta hesitated. “Like this house?”

Lane slowly nodded. “That pretty much sums it up.”

“You truly didn’t know Signor V was loaded?”

“No.”

“You didn’t Google him? Or even search for him on Facebook?”

“I try to use the Internet as little as possible. I mean, I know it’s just likely to show me stuff about rich people—”

“And instead of dying of envy like normal folks, all that jazz only makes you want to puke,” Julieta finished.

“I wouldn’t, err, put it in that way but…”

Julieta beamed. “You’re so cute. Really. Have I told you that?”

“About seven times in the past hour,” Lane said, laughing.

The kitchen was empty when they reached it, which Julieta explained to her was another precaution. “Signor V wanted me to check how comfortable you’d be first with other people—”

“Oh, but I’m okay now, I promise. I don’t want to disrupt anyone from their work so please, it’s okay to call them back.”

“You’re sure?”

At her nod, Julieta made a call using the intercom and a few minutes later, Angelo’s entire kitchen staff returned. There were about ten of them, and they greeted her with wary smiles, relaxing only when Lane smiled back at them cheerfully.

The chef took charge, introducing himself and everyone else.

When it was her turn, Lane said awkwardly, “I’m, umm, Lane Petersen. Thanks for being so welcoming, and I’m so sorry if I ended up causing any delay in your work.”

The chef, Felicio, shook his head. “Figurati. It’s no problem. We will be more than happy to have you enjoy your meal in the kitchen if this pleases you”

“It does,” she assured him.

They went to work then, and her eyes widened when she saw the bulk of food they were tasked to prepare. There were dozens of boxes and bags of ingredients, and they quickly filled up the kitchen’s vast counters.

Seeing the questioning look in Lane’s eyes, Julieta volunteered, “It’s for tonight’s party.” She paused then said uneasily, “And please tell me you at least know about the parties, or Angelo’s really going to murder me.”

“I do,” Lane answered quickly, seeing the genuine worry in the other girl’s face. “He’s told me enough about it, but I didn’t realize his party would have so many guests.” She colored. “I mean, I didn’t know there were that many…”

“People like Signor V?”

She gave Julieta a small nod.

Julieta snorted. “Then you must have led a very sheltered life.”

Lane’s lips twisted. “Actually, far from it.” But now, she was beginning to realize that the darker side of life took on different forms. She might have been raised in bars and clubs, but all of them had been in the country, where folks were simple and their vices had been equally simple.