Chapter 6 - Clara Makes the Decision
Three weeks later, Vincent Costa's organization was smaller.
Much smaller.
Frank Costa had disappeared from Chicago—but not because Vincent ordered him killed.
Federal investigators found him in Miami after Vincent's attorneys turned over financial records tied to the illegal lending scheme.
Several collectors were arrested.
Others cooperated.
Saul resigned.
Mickey testified.
And Vincent spent millions returning unauthorized collections.
Clara remained his secretary.
That surprised everyone.
Especially Vincent.
One evening he found an envelope on his desk.
He stared at it.
“Clara.”
She appeared in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“What is this?”
“My resignation.”
“No.”
She folded her arms.
“You didn't even read it.”
“I recognize the format.”
“I created the format.”
“Exactly.”
“Read it.”
Vincent opened the envelope.
His expression changed.
“This says effective Friday.”
“Yes.”
“Today is Wednesday.”
“I know how calendars work.”
“I need more notice.”
She stared.
He sighed.
“Bad argument.”
“Terrible.”
He put the letter down.
“Why?”
Clara entered.
“Because everything changed.”
“Your salary?”
“No.”
“Hours?”
“No.”
“Responsibilities?”
“Vincent.”
He stopped.
She sat across from him.
“For three years, I worked for you because I was good at the job.”
“You were exceptional.”
“I still am.”
“Yes.”
“But after the diner, the debt, Mickey, Frank…”
She paused.
“I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering whether I stayed because I felt obligated to you.”
Vincent said nothing.
Clara continued.
“You returned the money.”
“Yes.”
“You protected Rachel.”
“Yes.”
“You dismantled part of your own organization.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't ask me for anything.”
“No.”
“That's exactly why I need to leave.”
His eyes narrowed.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does to me.”
“Explain.”
“I need to know I can walk away.”
Vincent looked at the resignation letter.
“And if I don't accept?”
Clara smiled slightly.
“Then I leave anyway.”
A reluctant smile appeared on his face.
“There she is.”
“Who?”
“The woman who ordered me to sit down in a diner.”
“You deserved it.”
“I probably did.”
Silence settled between them.
Vincent picked up a pen.
He signed the resignation.
Clara blinked.
“That easily?”
“No.”
He pushed it toward her.
“That painfully.”
Her smile disappeared.
Vincent leaned back.
“What will you do?”
“Sleep.”
“Career plan?”
“Still sleep.”
“After that?”
“I don't know.”
He nodded.
“Then you should find out.”
Clara stood.
At the door, she stopped.
“Vincent?”
“Yes?”
“Why were you at Sunny’s Plate that night?”
“The manifest.”
“No.”
He said nothing.
“You could have sent Paulie.”
“Yes.”
“You could have waited until morning.”
“Yes.”
“You came yourself.”
Vincent looked toward the window.
Clara waited.
Finally he said, “Because you always answered.”
“What?”
“Three years. Midnight. Christmas. Sundays. Meetings. Emergencies. You always answered.”
His voice lowered.
“When you didn't, I thought something had happened.”
Clara stared at him.
“So you drove across Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“In the rain?”
“Yes.”
“For your secretary?”
Vincent looked at her.
“No.”
The room became very quiet.
Clara's fingers tightened around the doorknob.
“That's a dangerous answer.”
“I know.”
“You're my boss.”
“Until Friday.”
She almost smiled.
“Convenient.”
“I've been accused of worse.”
“Vincent.”
He became serious.
“I won't ask while you work for me.”
“Ask what?”
He looked directly at her.
“You know.”
Clara did.
She opened the door.
“Friday, then.”
Vincent's expression changed.
“Friday?”
She walked out.
“Good night, Mr. Costa.”
Behind her came his voice.
“Clara.”
She kept walking.
May you like
For once, she enjoyed making Vincent Costa wait.
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