Chapter 3

Chapter 3

To say Noel was nervous would be an understatement. He was hella nervous. Outside, he portrayed the coolness of a cucumber. Internally, he was a squirrel in traffic.

Then again, anyone who had him as a new boss would feel the same.

Noel hadn't actually met his new boss yet. The man's scary reputation alone, passed along in hushed whispers on the streets, was enough to tell him what he was getting himself into. If this PA position didn't pay so damn well and have such great benefits, he'd have never applied for it to begin with. Unfortunately, beggars couldn't be choosers. His uncle had long since wasted the inheritance Noel's parents had left for him and his brother, Hunter, yet the bills steadily piled up. He and Hunter were damn close to losing their childhood home, and Noel knew he had to find a high-paying job. STAT. On top of the bank notices for defaulting on the second mortgage, he was tired of various loan sharks dropping by looking for his uncle. When they couldn't find Uncle Travis, the thugs set about destroying their house and beating on Noel because they weren't getting their money, which in turn led to even more bills, such as home repairs and hospital visits.

Noel really, really wanted to avoid another hospital trip. Just the memory of multiple violent thrashings gave him a full body shudder.

Cash to pay goons off and to keep his house. Those were the two major goals he had for getting this job. Granted, the irony of working for the mafia—one of the various lenders his uncle had gambling debts with, no less—was rich. Not many would choose to work an office job for the most powerful mafia in North America, which was likely why he had been hired, despite his bare-bones experience within a large-scale company.

Like he said, beggars couldn't be choosers.

He'd interviewed with a man named Sebastian—which had been an interesting experience in and of itself—hired on Friday, told to start on Monday. When Monday morning arrived, he dressed in a black suit, packed a lunch, and came into the office thirty minutes before his scheduled start time. Partially to avoid being caught in traffic, but also because he wasn't entirely sure where to go. Noel hated being late, but being late on the first day for work? Hard pass.

According to Mr. Sebastian, his new office wasn't in the "official" company building, but in a different one several miles away, in a less frequented section of the city. Frankly, the seedier section, at least compared to the family's main building. Noel was nervous pulling up to the gatehouse on his motorbike but dammit, for a job that paid as well as this one, he'd do worse things. The center of the gate boasted an intricately crafted stylized phoenix holding a sword in its claws, a proud symbol recognized solely as the crest of the Lombardi family. Right. He blew out a breath, told himself to man up, and pushed forward.

He was quickly met by two stony men guarding the front gate. They were scary as hell with their silvery scars, dressed in black suits, but their demeanor swiftly relaxed once he introduced himself as the new PA. They escorted him past the gate and to the main building—which felt like entering a wolf's den—and once inside, he got more than one curious look. He saw more men dressed in black suits, subtle flashes of the weapons they carried tucked just within reach. Despite their laid-back expressions, this was clearly a mafia business, and the people here only reinforced such knowledge. Crossing the foyer, Noel was shown to and elevator and taken up two stories and led down a hall before being introduced to yet another person.

"Hi, I'm Joe." The man had a friendly enough smile. "You're the new personal assistant for Boss—er, Mr. Fernando?"

"Uh, yes. I'm Noel Smith." He returned the man's smile and mentally sighed in relief. At least one person was friendly.

"I'm his personal bodyguard. Well, one of three. Here, come in. Mr. Franklin would normally be the one showing you the ropes, but he's out on a business trip right now. I'll try and get you set up."

The mid-sized office beyond the steel door looked like almost every other office he'd worked in the past two years. No personal touches, dark blue carpets, white walls, tasteful landscape portrait on the left, desk on the right, with a closed door presumably leading into the boss's office. The front desk was at least a nicer one than he was used to, a dark oak piece with a high back to it so all and sundry couldn't easily see the desktop.

"Tell you the truth, you'll be the first personal assistant Boss has ever had. We don't really count Mr. Franklin as he's too busy managing another section of the company, and it's the day-to-day managing Boss needs help with." Joe filled him in even as he escorted Noel behind the desk. "We've all kind of pinch hit for Boss since he acquired this branch, and at first it was fine, but his schedule has just gotten crazier and crazier. And he's got all this foreign correspondence to deal with now, too, and no one's qualified enough to help with the more nuanced tasks. He won't admit it, but man's drowning in work. It's why Mr. Seb hired you. Fair warning, though. Boss didn't exactly agree to you being here, and he's really resistant to change, so he might not be all smiles upon meeting you."

Erk. Oh dear. "Warning taken. Is this computer where you've been managing tasks from?"

"Uh, no. We got this in last week and set it all up for whoever was hired. We do have a main database and server we work out of, though. Here, let me show you how to sign in."

Joe ran him through the ins and outs, got him logged in to the right accounts so he could see Fernando's calendar and inbox, along with a short list of whom to call when he had questions. Noel liked Joe already and promised himself he'd treat the man to lunch for being so helpful. He asked specific questions that he'd learned to ask on previous jobs, wrote down the answers, and hoped today wouldn't suck.

Eventually, Joe didn't know what else to tell him, and it was almost time to start the official work day, so he went back to his own tasks. Noel got up, went down to the breakroom at the end of the hallway—located in the opposite direction of the elevator—and fixed both himself and his new boss a cup of coffee. He came back with both mugs in hand, only to realize the connecting office door was now open.

Fernando Lombardi had arrived.

Noel put his coffee down on his desk, grabbed pen and notepad, and summoned courage.

Showtime.

With a professional smile, he walked through the open door. "Mr. Fernando?"

The man seated behind the large desk looked up. No one had shown him a picture of Fernando, so the first look took Noel aback. Damn, this was the head of a mafia family? He certainly didn't look the part, aside from his muscular frame noticeable even through his suit. He almost resembled an elven prince, with that silky blond hair laying in a long sweep, blue eyes set in a sculpted face. He was beautiful, really. The realization felt like a smack to the back of his head. Not that Noel was too surprised by the attraction. He'd sometimes questioned if he was gay, but one look at this gorgeous man felt like confirmation. At least, for a man who looked like Fernando Lombardi, he could be hella gay.

Self, how about we not develop a crush on the boss on the first day? M'kay? Please and thank you.

Mentally shaking the thought off, he kept his smile in place as he approached the desk and set the other coffee down. "I'm Noel, your new PA. Nice to meet you."

Fernando stared at him, those blue eyes evaluating, penetrating. There was no polite smile, and he didn't look enthused by his newest employee's presence. Joe was unfortunately correct in his assumption that Noel would have an uphill battle.

"You're old enough to be my PA?"

Noel got this question a lot. Damn baby face. "I promise I'm twenty, sir. I also speak Italian fluently, so I'm here to help you with some of the foreign correspondence."

"Is that so?" Fernando lifted his coffee and took a tentative sip. He frowned for a second before setting it back down. "And the reason why you know how I take my coffee…?"

"I asked Joe."

"Is that something you normally ask about your boss on the first day?"

Why was he getting grilled like this? Then again, head of a mafia family, Fernando likely did run paranoid. Especially when hiring Noel wasn't his choice. "I always ask five questions at the start of a job. How the boss likes his coffee is one of them."

"What's the other four?" Fernando sat back in his chair, hands casually resting in his lap, head canted. He was scrutinizing Noel carefully.

Noel counted them off on his hand. "What's the boss allergic to; who should never, ever be allowed in contact with them; short list of who should always be immediately put into contact with them; and finally, what habits I need to be aware of."

"That's a very interesting list. How many other offices have you worked in?"

"Three. I started working at a young age, but gravitated toward office jobs once I became a legal adult." Truthfully, he and his brother had been too poor for Noel to not work after Noel had turned thirteen. He'd started working as soon as he could find a cash-paying job, and it had helped keep food on the table and bills paid. His uncle's gambling had gotten worse at that point, so he and Hunter rarely ever saw him. When they did, he only brought trouble and debts to their door. It had…not been great and looking back, Noel wasn't sure how they'd survived most of his childhood.

"I didn't ask for you," Fernando told him bluntly. "Frankly speaking, I don't know how much help you'll be."

"Try me, sir." Noel gave him a confident smile that he didn't one hundred percent feel.

"I don't have much choice; my brother has made that point clear. I guess, just start going through the calendar, read my emails, catch up on who's who and what's going on. Ask questions if you must."

In other words, figure it out yourself. Fortunately, Noel was good at that. "Yes, sir."

Privately, he made a bet with himself. Before the month was out, Fernando was going to be glad he had Noel. He would make sure of that. Noel desperately needed this job, so he'd make damn sure he was the best PA ever.

For the next week, that's what Noel did. He figured it out.

A few things became apparent in the first couple of days. First, Fernando was much friendlier if he was given coffee first thing in the morning. (Read that as he'd at least grunt when Noel spoke to him instead of ignoring him altogether.) Second, he'd forget to eat lunch if he wasn't both reminded and actually served lunch at his desk. The man was damn picky with food, often leaving the plate untouched. It was hit or miss getting Fernando to actually eat, and Noel was about to offer fries and dino nuggies just so he'd eat something—that's how frustrated he'd gotten. Third, and most importantly, the man was insanely busy. Fernando could run workaholics right into the ground, and Noel was convinced his boss thought sleep was for the weak.

Noel's learning curve was steep, jagged, and fast. He felt like his head was spinning most days, but he was slowly figuring out how to tread water. There were a few things he started doing that Fernando seemed to appreciate, which Noel only knew about because Fernando started asking for them. First, he started calendaring in phone calls so Fernando didn't accidentally double book himself and try to call people while in a meeting. Second, if there were multiple meetings on any given day, Noel would put the paperwork for all of them into the same binder, all with colored-coded tabs, so Fernando wasn't trying to haul around multiple folders. He would also take notes during the meeting and upload them onto the server, then add a hyperlink in the master spreadsheet so he could keep all the business deals straight. Noel had honestly thought the spreadsheet was just for him until Fernando poked his head out of his office reporting that one of the hyperlinks was broken and could he fix that next?

His boss wasn't the type to say "Good job!" or anything like that. His way of saying good work was to make some off-hand comment of "Can you do this from now on?" Praise in its own way. Getting him to eat was still hit or miss, though. If there was a rhyme or reason to his picky habits, Noel had yet to figure out the pattern.

On a non-work-related note, Noel's hope had been that his attraction would die down quickly since he was being worked so hard. Sadly, that didn't seem to be the case. Rather the opposite, strangely enough. Noel worked damn hard to get that man's praise, but when it did come, it sent a pleasant tingle through him.

Dammit. A praise kink was hardly helpful. He shoved the wayward thought aside and strove to ignore his attraction. Ignoring it was easy, at least, since he was so busy he nearly passed himself in the hallways.

For a man who wasn't sure how to use a PA when Noel first came aboard, he sure kept said PA busy now. Noel might have been a bit smug as he started week two.

This morning held a different kind of milestone. While the back portion of the compound was comprised of housing for all the employees, the front section consisted of a large office building, designed as a front to meet with clients. Noel had already given a heads-up to the front gate that he had guests coming in, so they could be shown directly to the conference room. They were expecting a special potential client, a Japanese businessman who wanted to discuss a possible deal with Fernando about textile import.

Did Noel for one second believe it was actually textiles? Not on your life. But if Fernando called it textiles, then textiles it was.

Noel set up in the conference room designated for such occasions. He prepared snacks, water bottles, and a pot of green tea to serve the guests. The walls were a thick, polished wood, with a recessed projector screen that could descend from the ceiling on demand. The table was some kind of sturdy antique, with plush executive chairs on wheels surrounding it. The room smelled of stale smoke, so people clearly enjoyed a cigarette or two during such meetings.

The Japanese businessman, a Mr. Souma, arrived right on time with two of his people. He looked a little stuffy and narcissistic, nose in the air, wearing a fastidious black suit and red tie. He appeared every bit the seedy businessman in Noel's opinion, but he kept that thought off his face as he smiled in welcome and showed his entourage to the right seats.

With a polite bow, he said, "Please wait a moment. Mr. Lombardi will be here short— Oh, there he is."

Fernando entered the room and came forward, giving a slight bow in greeting. "Mr. Souma."

"Mr. Lombardi," Souma returned in accented English. "I'm glad we can finally have this meeting. I have numbers to show you, as promised."

"Good," Fernando agreed in a neutral voice, continuing the conversation in English. "Please, sit."

They got comfortable, but Noel remained standing and stood with his back to the wall. His job was to fetch anything they might need during the meeting. He wasn't meant to be part of the conversation.

People poured themselves the prepared tea, spreadsheets and invoices came out, and Fernando reviewed the papers handed to him. He asked a few questions, but they were mostly logistical questions and not money oriented.

The funny thing about humans was that if someone stood still enough, was quiet enough, people forgot they were even there. Noel just standing there breathing resulted in the other four people utterly ignoring him. Which was fine, it's not like he wanted their attention. Rather, this was a rare moment where he was able to stay still. Having ensured the meeting was running smoothly, his eyes briefly landed on his boss.

Fernando looked downright edible today. He was in a beautifully tailored grey suit that brought out his blue eyes. From this back and side profile, he looked like a damn model. Commanding and confident, fully in control of his own space. Noel only gave himself five seconds to really appreciate the imposing man's beauty and then forced his mind back on task. He was here to help, even if everyone was preoccupied at the moment, which meant the visiting assistants did something they shouldn't have—they forgot Noel was within hearing range.

The two assistants started muttering amongst themselves in a low voice. Low enough to be a whisper, but loud enough that Noel, standing catty-corner to them, could still hear them.

" This is almost going too well ," the woman muttered to her colleague in Japanese.

" I know but hush. Don't jinx us ," the man replied.

What was this? Noel didn't like the undercurrent of that little conversation.

Their boss kept his eyes on Fernando. "What do you say, Mr. Lombardi?"

"Hmm. Let me review this last part," Fernando answered absently, still bent over the spreadsheet in front of him. "I don't see any issues so far."

"Good, good." Souma sat back and sipped his tea.

His male assistant leaned over and whispered in Japanese, " Should we offer him good contract or… ?"

" Shitty contract first ," Souma muttered back. " I think he'll sign it ."

Oh hell no. Not on Noel's watch. As casually as he could manage, he pushed off the wall and walked toward the head of the table. He leaned in, hand on Fernando's shoulder for balance. The man smelled insanely good, like clean male skin, and Noel had to clamp down on the impulse to inhale deeply.

Seriously? Focus, Noel!

Shaking off the impulse, Noel switched to Italian and whispered directly into his ear, " Do you understand what they're saying ?"

Fernando froze in place before murmuring in return, " Tell me ."

" They have two contracts with them. A good one and a shitty one. They think they've duped you enough to have you sign the bad one ."

Fernando nodded slightly, indicating he understood, so Noel retreated to the wall. What Fernando did next was up to him.

Fernando closed the folder with a slap and slid it roughly back toward Souma. His eyes were cold. "We can't do business."

Souma blinked at him, taken aback. "Was there something wrong in the papers?"

"I just can't do business with someone who brings two versions of a contract." Fernando lifted an eyebrow in challenge and stared the man down.

Souma's eyes shot to Noel, narrowing. He visibly seethed before saying, "I think your assistant misunderstood."

"He did not." Fernando stood, body language tense and defensive. "I caught parts of your side conversation as well; he just understood you better. Trying to cheat a Lombardi is a very stupid move on your part, Mr. Souma. I'll make sure today's dealings are widely spoken of."

Souma slammed a fist against the table. "I told you, he misunderstood!"

Fernando whipped his gun out from its holster, aiming it at Souma's head, expression downright arctic now. "You tried to cheat me. I am being nice by letting you walk out of here alive. Do not test my patience."

Souma was not a happy man as he slammed a hand on the table once more before alighting from his chair and stomping out of the room. Joe and Crammer, standing just outside the door, promptly fell into step with the group to escort them out of the building.

Phew, that went not great, but at least Fernando avoided signing something that would create trouble for him later. Noel was glad for the small win.

Fernando roughly shoved the chair back in place, pacing toward the window. Whipping a phone out, he called someone and rattled off quick instructions in Italian. Was that the elusive Franklin? Noel kept hearing about him but had yet to see him here. The man seemed to be constantly on the road dealing with business issues on Fernando's behalf.

Barking out a last order, Fernando hung up, then stood there breathing, visibly calming himself down as he looked out the window.

"Bastard's left," he announced without segue.

Fernando turned, and damn, it felt as if he were trying to read the inside of Noel's skull. "Nowhere on your resume does it list that you know Japanese."

"Eh, I don't, not really." Noel shrugged. "I'm conversational at best, but I'm weak at reading and writing it. Wait, you read my resume?"

"Of course I did. I wanted to know who was coming into my space." Fernando continued staring at him. "What else should have been on that resume, Noel?"

"Uhhh, you think the Japanese should have been on there?" Surely a language he wasn't fluent in didn't count as a skill, but maybe Fernando had a different opinion. "Um, well, I know a little Chinese. Enough Korean to get by."

Fernando kept staring at him, a man waiting for the punchline. "You're that good with languages, yet you're working for a mafia boss instead of being employed as a translator?"

"Like I said, not fluent enough to count." Noel shrugged again.

Was that a smile teasing at the corners of Fernando's mouth? "Fortunately for me. I need to call Seb and tell him the deal fell through. In the meantime, pick a place. Dinner is on me tonight."

He got treated to dinner for this? It was the most direct compliment Fernando had ever given him. Noel gave Fernando a sincere smile in return. "Sure thing, Boss. Thanks."

Look at that. Not even two weeks in and Fernando had decided he was worth keeping after all. Noel loved it when he won bets with himself.