The Woman from the Past (Grassi Framily)

CHAPTER NINE

Cammie

I hated the job.

I mean, Rizzo was super nice to customers, but she was a raging lunatic to her employees, making me understand why she had such a hard time getting anyone to stay.

Maybe I should have been feeling regret about practically begging Colin to let me have the job. But the fact of the matter was, I was so happy to be out of the house that I didn’t even care that Rizzo had yelled at me ten times the first hour I started working.

I, thankfully, was not someone who cried when they got yelled at. Likely because my father had been a big yeller my whole childhood, and he would only yell worse if you cried, so I learned to keep it to myself until I was alone.

A lucky “skill” to have around Rizzo.

The job itself was pretty simple. I had a cheat sheet for what was in each of the sandwiches—including exactly how many slices of meat and cheese because Rizzo didn’t want to waste a single penny—and the register was easy enough to master, thanks to me using them for years as a teen when I’d worked at a store.

So while working with her was not ideal, being out in public felt good. Amazing, even.

And that was before I walked out of the back and saw him.

A man I thought I’d never see again.

Massimo Grassi.

Looking wholly out of place even though he’d left his tie and jacket off.

The man just sort of… oozed money and sophistication.

I didn’t even really wrap my head around the fact that his presence likely meant he was going to help me. I was too focused for a while on how attractive he looked, how he seemed to swallow up the whole room, and suck out all the air.

Then he was passing me notes, reminding me why he was actually there. Not for a sandwich. But to help me and my brothers.

His timing was impeccable, too. Showing up right when I started a new job.

I knew it was risky to meet him at the indie coffee shop a couple doors down when I took my break. But I knew from my brothers that Colin’s men were not allowed in, so there was a layer of safety in that.

Colin had been clear. I was allowed to leave the deli for my break—seeing as there was nowhere in the deli to stand around and be useless and in the way—but I had to stay on that side of the street. I could sit on the bench, take a walk, or get something to eat at one of the other shops.

Mainly, I knew, because he knew his mom would keep an eye on me.

And if Colin asked why I went to the coffee place, I could play dumb and act like I didn’t know it wasn’t a place that his men or even his mom were allowed to visit.

“Okay. Go,” Rizzo said, waving a rag at me. “I need to clean up after your mess anyway,” she added. “Be back in thirty minutes, or I will have to call my son.”

“Okay. Thanks, Rizzo,” I said, tone bright, even if my insides were cringing at being friendly to her when she’d been a witch to me all day.

It didn’t matter.

I had some freedom.

That was what counted.

Some part of me was almost afraid that the second I stepped out the doors, that someone was going to swoop down and drag me back to Colin’s house. But, amazingly, nothing happened.

No one even seemed to be paying me any mind as I started walking toward the coffee house.

It was a cute little indie place full of crystals and gorgeous art. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Massimo sitting at a table, but I didn’t want it to look like I was noticing him, so I made my way toward the counter instead.

“Okay, normally, I wouldn’t serve anyone who works at that place,” the green-haired lady behind the counter told me as soon as I walked up. “But judging by the way Hot Mafia Dude is eye-fucking the shit out of you right now, I’m going to assume you are here to talk to him.”