Genevieve’s eyes followed Matteo as he made his way toward the door. Just as Jasmine raised her hand to knock, an annoyed Misty Cohen stood behind her, both women momentarily frozen by the sight of the striking man. Without so much as a glance back, Matteo slipped past them and exited. A surge of anger bubbled up inside Gen.
She quickly closed the distance behind him.
“I’ll be right back,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice low and sharp.
Instead of turning right to follow Matteo to the stairwell, Gen veered left, heading straight toward Charlotte’s office. She pushed the door open with such force it banged against the wall, but she didn’t pause to feel guilty about it.
“Where on earth do you get off signing me over to that account without even talking to me first?” Gen demanded, her tone biting.
Charlotte’s lips sealed slowly as she ended the call she was on, promising to call back before hanging up.
“Excuse me?” Charlotte said, clearly caught off guard.
“We’re supposed to be equal partners,” Gen snapped. “You had no right to hand me off to the Accardi account without consulting me first.”
Charlotte folded her arms, her expression firm. “You know how much landing this account could mean for us.”
“I don’t care!” Gen shot back. “I’m not going to New York, Charlee.”
Charlotte rose to her feet, frustration clear in her voice. “You don’t care? Gen, we’re barely scraping by here. Neither of us has taken a paycheck in months. Your dad’s been covering your rent, and Benny’s working two jobs just to support me and the girls. We’re one lost account away from having to let someone go. This deal could save us — help us make new contacts, bring in higher net-worth clients.”
“Then send someone else,” Gen insisted.
“He asked specifically for you,” Charlotte replied, shaking her head.
“And you’re not even curious why?” Gen challenged.
Charlotte shrugged. “Maybe he thinks you’re hot. So what? Why should we turn down his business just because he’s hoping it’ll get him into your pants?”
Gen stared at her friend, knowing every word was true. If it had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have minded. But this was different. “I can’t.”
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why not? You’ve never hesitated to use your charm to win over clients before. What’s so different about this guy?”
Gen exhaled deeply and sank into Charlotte’s guest chair. “Remember that guy I told you about from Jada’s bachelorette party?”
Charlotte smirked, her eyes gleaming with interest. “Oh yeah, I remember. I’d love to meet him.”
“Well, you just did,” Gen said quietly.
Charlotte’s mouth dropped open again. She leaned forward, wetting her lips nervously and glancing around the room as if Matteo might be listening in. “You said he’s in the mafia?”
“He is,” Gen confirmed.
Charlotte frowned. “But you checked his accounts. You said there was nothing illegal—just some suspicious activity—but nothing that would put us at risk by taking him on.”
“A man like that probably has a second company, uses a ‘dirty’ accountant,” Gen explained. “The guy who started questioning me about the suspicious stuff in Atlanta and pulled me aside at the end? I’m guessing that’s the dirty accountant.”
Charlotte ran her hands through her hair in frustration and spun her chair thoughtfully. “Well, if there’s nothing illegal with the business he wants us to handle…”
“You’re joking,” Gen interrupted.
Charlotte rubbed her face and tugged at her hair before pulling out a piece of paper from her desk drawer. She slid it across to Gen.
Gen’s eyes widened as she read the bank’s warning: three months to catch up on loan payments before bankruptcy proceedings would begin.
“This came in this morning,” Charlotte whispered, her voice heavy. “I was going to tell you later—I didn’t want to jinx your mojo before the big meeting.”
“Is it real?” Gen asked, her heart sinking at the thought Matteo might have engineered this to force her hand.
“Yes,” Charlotte nodded sadly. “I called Josephine at the bank. It’s legit. We have three months to pull ourselves out of the red, or we’ll have to close up shop.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Gen asked, hurt flashing in her eyes.
Charlotte shrugged, eyes misting. “We’ve all been working so hard. I thought I could fix it before it got this bad.”
Gen set the paper down with a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair. She’d known things were tight, but this was worse than she’d imagined. The firm was barely surviving in a saturated market where clients were scarce. Could she really afford to say no to Matteo’s offer?
“He gave you a contract, right?” Charlotte asked cautiously.
Gen nodded.
“Okay, then… maybe just think it over. Talk to your dad, get the girls’ opinions tonight. Call me when you’ve decided.”
Still dazed, Gen returned to her office. Misty Cohen sat by the window, arms crossed, watching her. Gen stepped aside to let her pass, took a deep breath, and tried to shove her mounting worries to the back of her mind so she could focus on the immediate problem.
Putting on her best customer service smile, she greeted Misty warmly. “Mrs. Cohen, I’m glad you could come in today so we can work through this issue.”
“This is ridiculous. You threatened me!” Misty snapped.
Gen sighed. “In a way, yes. This is a messy situation we’ve found ourselves in, Mrs. Cohen.” She moved toward her desk and pulled out a chair. “Whether you knew about the funds or not, both the firm and you are—”
Her eyes caught a flash of gold on the desk. She paused, picking up a pair of cufflinks engraved with an elegant ‘A’ that twinkled in the light. A knot tightened in her chest. Had Matteo planted these? She squinted, searching for anything unusual, but saw nothing out of place.
“Excuse me, are you paying attention?” Mrs. Cohen hissed sharply.
Gen’s gaze snapped up, narrowing. “Of course. We were just discussing my call to the police…”
After Mrs. Cohen left, Gen busied herself with anything but the Accardi account. She tackled old paperwork, helped Lauren brainstorm marketing strategies to attract new clients, tidied her desk, and even dusted the corners of her window. When Jasmine knocked to say she was leaving and that everyone else had gone, Gen finally turned her attention back to the rolled-up contract resting on her desk.
Sinking into her chair, she read through the contract six times, marking several clauses she disliked. On the surface, it was a fair deal: six months of service to clean the accounts, identify any guilty parties, and train a new accountant. The firm would be paid well above market rates, she’d have an apartment covered, a food stipend, and a car service. The only point that bothered her was the lack of any company policy forbidding romantic relationships between employees. She knew what decision lay ahead.
Gathering her things, Gen slipped her sneakers back on and left the office. She walked the ten blocks to her home, giving herself plenty of time to rehearse the confrontation she knew was coming. The small brick townhouse was alive with energy—music blared from open windows, laughter spilling into the street. Gen shook her head with a tired smile as she unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Abigail peeked out from the kitchen and waved. Gen walked down the hall and smiled at the lively scene: Abigail, Sarah, and Louise gathered around the kitchen island. Louise, a sous-chef at one of the town’s top restaurants, was stirring a bubbling stew that filled the air with a mouthwatering aroma.
“Hey, ladies,” Gen greeted.
“Why so glum?” Louise asked, even without turning around, her intuitive nature reading Gen’s mood.
“Nothing, just running an errand,” Gen replied as she passed through the kitchen toward her bedroom.
“We’re watching How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days tonight!” Sarah sang cheerfully.
Gen groaned louder as she entered her room.
“Did she just complain about my favorite movie?” Louise asked, amused.
“She’s worked up,” Sarah explained.
Gen shook her head, pulling back the sheets to grab the faded, worn Warped Tour hoodie she’d been sleeping in since 2012.
“I’m not worked up,” Gen said as she left her room, walking back through the kitchen.
“What’s that?” Abigail asked curiously.
“That’s Mystery Hottie’s sweatshirt!” Louise exclaimed.
Gen rolled her eyes. “How long do you think it took for the word to get out?”
“I texted Lou and Beck on the way home,” Sarah admitted with a sly grin.
“Whatever. I’m just returning it.”
“Returning it?” Abigail asked.
“Is he in town?” Louise’s ladle clattered onto the counter.
“Bye, guys,” Gen said with a small wave and a wink, knowing they’d be up all night waiting for every detail.
Outside, Gen approached the cab she’d called during her walk home. Behind her, laughter and teasing voices floated through the open window.
“Hey Gen! Be a dear and get a pic with him in just the hoodie!” Sarah called loudly, making sure the whole street could hear.
“See if he has a billionaire cousin. Mamma needs a new kitchen!” Abigail added.
“Gen! Do you need a condom?!” Abigail shouted even louder.
Gen shut the door with a smile and rolled her eyes once more. They found it all hilarious, but she knew this next conversation would demand every ounce of her focus.