Chapter 6 - The Offer
Three weeks passed.
I returned to Miller's Bakery.
My hand healed.
My rent remained late.
Life became normal again.
Almost.
Every afternoon at four fifteen, a black Range Rover parked outside the bakery.
Leo would enter with his security guard.
“Chocolate croissant.”
“You had one yesterday.”
“I survived attempted kidnapping.”
“That excuse has expired.”
“Dad says trauma takes time.”
“Your father is manipulating me through a nine-year-old.”
“Probably.”
Then one rainy Thursday, Roman came instead.
He looked absurdly expensive standing between the doughnut display and refrigerator full of orange juice.
My manager nearly dropped a tray.
Roman placed an envelope on the counter.
“No.”
“You haven't opened it.”
“It's money.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“You saved my son's life.”
“You've thanked me.”
“Not sufficiently.”
“You sent me flowers.”
“Three times.”
“You replaced my coat.”
“It was ruined.”
“You paid my hospital bill.”
“Obviously.”
“And somehow my landlord suddenly decided I don't owe late fees.”
Roman said nothing.
I pointed at him.
“That was you.”
“Possibly.”
I pushed the envelope back.
“I don't want your money.”
“What do you want?”
The question caught me off guard.
I looked toward the window.
Leo was sitting inside the Range Rover, drawing something on the fogged glass.
“He needs normal people around him.”
Roman's expression changed.
“So do you.”
That surprised him.
Then he laughed.
A real laugh.
It was the first time I understood that Roman DeLuca might actually be lonely.
He picked up the envelope.
“Dinner.”
“What?”
“Have dinner with us.”
“That's your new payment?”
“No.”
He paused.
“That's me asking.”
I studied him.
The feared Roman DeLuca looked strangely uncomfortable.
I smiled.
“Friday.”
“Seven.”
“Seven-thirty.”
“Seven.”
“Seven-fifteen.”
Roman considered it.
May you like
“Agreed.”
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