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There was a smile in his voice when he said, “That’s my Frankie.”

Yeah. That was what I was.

Benny’s Frankie.

Suddenly, I wasn’t nervous anymore.

“There’s more,” I told him.

“The way you say that doesn’t sound like you wanna tell me you’re in the mood to call me tonight after I get home from the restaurant so we can have phone sex.”

At this, I made a mental note to set my alarm so I could wake up and call Benny when he got home from the restaurant so we could have phone sex.

Then I said, “No, babe, that’s not the more. The more is, my assistant, in cahoots with several of the other assistants, found out there’s more weird shit goin’ down to add to the seriously weird shit already goin’ down with Bierman.”

“Stay out of it, Frankie,” Ben ordered, and my back went straight.

“I am,” I hissed. “But my assistant isn’t and I like her. I told her to drop it, but she assured me she would in a way that didn’t give me warm fuzzies.”

“She puts her neck out there, that’s her problem, not yours.”

“Ben—” I started.

“It’s not yours, Francesca,” he interrupted me. “You told her to stand down. She doesn’t, her decision, her consequences.”

When he said the word “consequences,” my stomach started to turn.

“Babe?” Benny called.

“What?” I asked.

“You with me on that?”

“She’s a good gal, Benny. I like her. And what’s she’s uncovered is not good.”

“So report it to your boss,” Benny advised.

“If I do, he’ll know she and her crew have been snooping around.”

“Her consequences,” Benny repeated. “If it’s not good, you report it to him and let him deal with it.”

“He already knows it, I think,” I muttered.

“Right. Then that’s good. Let it lie.”

I drew in breath and looked down at the clock on my computer.

Fourteen minutes until go time.

“I gotta go,” I said to Ben. “I need to mentally prepare for the possibility I’ll be instigating a job search tonight, something that’s on my list of favorite things to do just above having all my hair pulled out by the roots.”

There was laughter in his voice when he advised, “Eyes to the prize, babe.”

Yeah.

Eyes to the prize.

“Okay, honey,” I said softly.

“Call me when you get out of the meeting,” he ordered.

“I will.”

“Good luck, tesorina,” he said softly.

“Thanks, Ben,” I whispered.

“Love you, babe.”

“Right back at you.”

I heard his chuckle before he said, “Later,” got my “Later” in return, and we disconnected.

I was able to concentrate on replying to two whole emails before I sucked in breath, got out of my chair, and headed to Lloyd’s office.

***

It was past five by the time I got out of Lloyd’s office.

Not because we had an in-depth strategy meeting about how I could continue to do my job but from a home office. Instead, because Lloyd took our meeting as an opportunity to get briefed about absolutely everything I was doing.

He was checking up. Not because he had any issues with my performance. So he could get his ducks in a row because he was bracing for impact.

Tandy was gone by the time I got back to my office. I checked email, sorted some stuff on my desk, then I closed down, grabbed my cell, and took off. I didn’t hit Go on Benny until I was in the elevator and I only did it because I’d entered the elevator alone.

“What’d he say, babe?” was his greeting.

He wanted good news for me. He also wanted my ass in Chicago.

That made me happy.

My news did not.

“He said he has no problem with it, but it’s unprecedented, no one has done it, and he’d have to talk to Mr. Berger,” I told him. “He also said he’d do that this week and get back to me.”

“With his ‘no problem,’ did he really seem like he had no problem with it?”

Ben’s question said Ben wasn’t stupid, but I knew that already.

“He wasn’t exactly doing cartwheels and congratulating me on the progression of my relationship with the man I love.”

I heard the smile in his voice, even if what he said next was serious. “So you have no idea if he’ll back your play.”

“I only know he likes me and doesn’t want to lose me. How that’ll be communicated when he approaches Berger, I have no clue.”

“So no answers, just a step closer to them,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“You gonna wait it out or plan ahead?”

“Tonight, I’ll be trolling through online want ads while eating my Lean Cuisine.”

Ben sounded surprised when he asked, “You eat Lean Cuisine?”

I grinned at my phone as the door to the elevator opened. “No, honey. I’ll probably stop at Arby’s.”

There was a moment of silence before he murmured, “Need my baby home so I can feed her better.”

Now, that gave me the warm fuzzies.

“Minute by minute, Benny,” I said softly, walking through the parking lot to my car.

“Minute by minute, babe,” he replied. “Gotta get back to the kitchen.”

“Okay, Ben.”

“Later, cara.

“Later, honey, love you.”

“Back at you.”

I grinned as I disconnected. Then I opened my car door, maneuvered myself in, holding my phone in one hand, purse over my shoulder and my computer bag in my other hand.

I got settled, put the key to the ignition, and looked unseeing through the windshield. But at what I saw, I focused and didn’t turn the key.

This was because Tandy, Sandy and Jennie, with freaking Miranda (who was supposed to be at the production facility) and the IT geek guy, who came up and set up my computer on my first day (his name escaped me), were all standing in a huddle beside a blue Honda CR-V.

And the huddle didn’t look like Tandy was letting things go.

I had half a mind to get out and go have a chat with them, but that half a mind was taken when my phone rang. I looked at it, sitting on the top of my purse in the passenger seat, and saw it said Cat Calling.

Cat was back, though that didn’t mean we had girlie chats every day about what we wore, what hot guys we’d seen, and how our men were treating us.

Still, hearing that she and Art had dried out and why, I was glad for her and I’d always be glad to have her back. The family was growing like crazy, but Cat and Art not drinking and giving a shit about their marriage, their future, and the kind of future they could give their family made me a lot more excited about the possibility of them bringing more Concetti blood into the world than the tangled webs my brother and father were weaving.

I grabbed my phone, took the call, and greeted, “Hey, babe.”

“Welp, it happened. Dad’s bitch popped out our little sister. Get this, her name is Domino.”

I blinked at the windshield, then asked, “Domino?”

“Affirmative,” she answered. “Dom…in…fuckin’…o.”

Oh God. I couldn’t even begin to enumerate how many ways mean kids could make fun of that name.

What were they thinking?

Cat cut into my thoughts. “You want more?”

What I wanted was to know why Chrissy hadn’t called me to share the good news, and more importantly, why she hadn’t consulted with me on names.