Chapter Forty-One

“Congratulations,” Charlotte said with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“Thanks,” Gen replied, a genuine smile spreading across her face as she stirred some sugar into her coffee. “I tried explaining it to my assistant, but she completely glazed over within seconds. Some people just don’t grasp the complexities of accounting. I needed to talk to someone who actually understands.”

Charlotte chuckled warmly through the phone. “I totally get that. Benny tries, but the longest he’s lasted is about thirty seconds before his eyes start to wander.” She paused. “So, how’s everything else going?”

Genevieve adjusted the phone between her shoulder and ear, then added a dash of hazelnut syrup to her cup. “Busy, as usual. There’s a new project launching this weekend that’s got everyone scrambling.”

Everyone, including Matteo, it seemed. She hadn’t seen or spoken to him since that disastrous brunch. Sometimes, when she knew he was tied up in meetings, she’d deliberately walk past his office or the conference rooms just to feel his gaze on her. She chastised herself for it—what kind of person does that? But she missed him. Deeply.

He hadn’t come home in days, at least not that she knew of. She’d rush to the peephole at every creak, hoping it was him. Whether it was a tactic to get her attention or just the result of his busy schedule, she couldn’t deny how much she longed for him. With Jada away on her honeymoon until Monday, the silence in the apartment felt oppressive. The only person she really spoke to was Leo when he dropped her off or picked her up—and even then, it was a struggle to get more than a few words out of the gruff man.

“Don’t work yourself to the bone. It’s six o’clock on a Friday. What are you still doing at work?” Charlotte asked, her tone light but concerned.

Gen glanced around the corner at Matteo’s closed office door, where she could hear the faint tapping of his keyboard. “Just swamped. We only have six months left on this project, remember?” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Or until you find a new accountant,” Charlotte teased.

Gen’s stomach twisted. “Right, of course.” Just then, Kaitlin walked into the kitchen. “Gotta run, girl. Love you.”

“You too! Go home!” Gen called after her.

She ended the call and set the phone down, watching her assistant closely. Kaitlin had seemed off for the past few days—still bubbly, but something was definitely bothering her. It wasn’t affecting her work, but Gen could tell.

“Spill,” Gen finally said, turning as she stirred her coffee.

Kaitlin glanced around nervously. “Is there a mess?”

Gen laughed softly. “No, I mean, just tell me what’s going on. Is it Alexander?”

Kaitlin’s cheeks flushed a deep red. She tucked a strand of her copper hair behind her ear. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me? Definitely. To him? Probably not. Men can be so thick-headed,” Gen replied with a knowing smile.

Kaitlin groaned and sank into the nearest chair. “We went to college together, had all the same classes. I…” She looked around as if afraid someone might be eavesdropping. “I kind of followed him here. Am I a stalker?”

Gen laughed and shrugged. “I’ve seen people do worse.”

Kaitlin buried her face in her hands. “I was going to tell him this weekend. It’s his birthday, but last minute, Mr. Accardi asked him to go to the opening weekend of this new project and Alexander canceled his party.”

Kaitlin stopped mid-sentence as voices approached.

Genevieve tilted her head, recognizing the voice of the woman accompanying Alexander.

“What do you mean there isn’t an office for me on this wing? I’m head of marketing now, Alexander. Accardi promised I’d be on this side. Instead, I have an office clear on the other side of the floor. I want to speak with him. Now.”

Gen stepped out of the kitchen and groaned. Mallory.

“I’m sorry, Miss Carmichael, but Mr. Accardi doesn’t want to be disturbed. He’s buried in paperwork. I can schedule a meeting for next week when he’s free,” Kaitlin said politely.

“Are you joking? It’s me. We…” Mallory’s eyes widened as she spotted Genevieve, then narrowed dangerously. “You. What the hell are you doing here?”

Gen shrugged casually. “I work here.”

Mallory spun toward Alexander. “She works here?”

“Miss Sinclair is our new accountant. She replaced Mr. Esposito.”

“Temporarily,” Genevieve added with a slight edge.

Gen took Kaitlin’s hand and pulled her toward her office, closing the door behind them to buy some time. Mallory’s hand slammed against the glass, making Gen tense. Sensing the brewing storm, she calmly walked to her desk and pulled out her phone, fingers hovering over a name she’d been hesitant to message for nights. She quickly sent a brief text.

“Where do you get off, huh?” Mallory hissed. “One night wasn’t enough for you?”

Gen gave Kaitlin a reassuring smile and nodded toward the door, silently telling her to leave. Kaitlin understood and slipped out slowly, careful not to provoke Mallory.

“Look, Mallory, I’m an accountant. I was assigned this case without knowing who he was,” Gen began.

Mallory stepped closer, her voice low and venomous. “You sought him out. You knew exactly who he was when you went to his bar and made me believe he should be the one I picked for you.”

Genevieve laughed, incredulous at the audacity. “Mallory, you sound…”

“He’s mine. He’s been mine since we were kids. The boy next door and the girl he ends up with. We’re going to get married one day, and you’ll just be a blip in our history.”

“Woah.” Gen’s office phone rang, interrupting the tense moment. She slowly reached over and answered on speaker. “Hello?”

“I need you. My office. Now,” came Matteo’s sharp voice.

Gen hung up and smiled at the furious Mallory. “Sorry, duty calls.”

She strode past Mallory, who gave a dismissive wave, clearly frustrated but unwilling to escalate further. Gen hurried down the hallway and entered Matteo’s office without knocking, closing the door firmly behind her.

Steam practically rose off her as she turned around, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

Matteo sat behind his computer, fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard. He was deeply focused, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. His suit jacket was off, and his white dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was tousled, as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. His green-brown eyes flicked up at her briefly before returning to the screen.

“What’s going on? Why the emergency call?” Matteo asked.

It took Gen a moment to gather her thoughts. She shrugged and took a few steps further into the room. “I was trying to escape an old acquaintance of yours who seems to have a strange dislike for me. The girl next door?”

Matteo snorted. “We didn’t have a girl next door growing up. We had a whore next door…” He glanced out the window and muttered, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Gen said, now standing in front of his desk, hands resting on the polished wood. “You’re going to have to do something about her. She’s a psycho.”

He leaned back in his chair, crushing the half-burned cigarette in the ashtray. He sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do. Her dad asked me to get her a job here.” He shrugged.

“So, you know Louis?”

Matteo smirked knowingly. “Wondering why I wasn’t at the wedding?”

Gen gave him a skeptical look. “You were in mourning.”

A flicker of pain crossed his face but vanished quickly. “How shocked would you have been to see me there?”

She smiled playfully. “Who says I wasn’t looking around, hoping you’d show up?”

Matteo raised an eyebrow, pushing back from his desk. “You were looking for me, huh?”

“I found you, if you remember,” she teased, pulling her hands away from the desk as he circled around.

He hummed thoughtfully. “Were you trying to escape the lesser of the Carmichael clan back then too?”

Genevieve took a step back as he slowly advanced toward her. “What if I was?”

“I might have to find her a closer office after all,” he said with a sly grin.

Gen scowled. “I’ll quit.”

Matteo caught her by the arm, pinning her gently against the wall beside his door. From the corner of her eye, she could still see Mallory standing near her own office, simmering.

Matteo chuckled softly. “So, you’ve escaped her. Now what?”