"The Mafia Boss Thought His Curvy Maid Needed Riding Lessons" Chapter 10 — The Last Deal
Chapter 10 — The Last Deal
“A copy of my employment file?” Mara asked.
Nico nodded. “The contractor says Adrian wanted it the week after you first rode with me.”
“That was before I found the bike.”
“Yes.”
They stood beside the blue motorcycle while the courtyard carried on around them. A delivery truck passed through the far gate. Someone called to a gardener across the lawn. Mara watched both, trying to fit the ordinary afternoon around what she had just heard.
“What was in the file?”
“Your address. Previous employment. Emergency contact.”
“My previous employment says Bennett Cycles.”
“It does.”
Mara thought of Adrian’s glance when she returned from riding, the photograph outside the workshop, the address saved on his phone.
“He knew what I could do,” she said.
“We don’t know when he read it.”
“But he asked for it after he saw me on a bike with you.”
Nico looked at her. “Elaine is speaking to the contractor now. I’ll tell you as soon as she confirms what he gave Adrian.”
Mara took the helmet from the blue bike’s seat. She had been going to ask Nico for a ride. Now she set it down again.
“I’m coming with you.”
They met Elaine in her office an hour later. The camera contractor appeared by video call with his own attorney beside him. He admitted that Adrian had asked for garage maintenance records through a legitimate service request. Then he had asked whether the estate kept digital copies of staff files.
“I told him I couldn’t access personnel records,” the contractor said.
“So you didn’t give him mine?” Mara asked.
“No. I sent him the name of the office system used for them. I shouldn’t have done even that.”
After the call, Elaine closed her notebook.
“Adrian had senior access at the estate,” she said. “He may have obtained the file himself. We have a record showing it was opened under his credentials. We don’t have proof the contractor sent him a copy.”
Mara absorbed that. It mattered to know exactly what they could prove.
“Did Adrian open anyone else’s file?”
“Several,” Elaine said. “Yours is the only one he opened twice.”
Nico leaned forward. “When?”
“The first time was after he saw you riding. The second was the night after you discovered the altered bike.”
Mara looked at the dates on the printed record. Adrian had known she worked in her father’s shop. After she stopped Nico from riding, he had checked where to find her.
“He considered me a problem,” she said.
“Yes,” Nico answered.
She had spent four years watching people look at her uniform, then at her body, and assume she could carry linens more readily than she could handle a machine. Adrian had made a different mistake. He had learned what she knew and believed he could frighten her into silence.
Elaine slid another document across the table. Investigators had matched payments to Adrian with messages about Nico’s travel plans. The garage recording showed Adrian returning to the motorcycle after the first attempt failed. The mechanic’s photographs and Mara’s dated notes established the bike’s condition before and after the six-minute camera outage.
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The records could be examined together now. Mara had spent enough time with them to know their limits, and enough to recognize their weight.
“What happens next?” she asked.
“Adrian and the others face a formal investigation,” Elaine said. “I can’t promise a result or a date. The photographer has given a statement. The men involved in the gate attack are being identified.”
Mara glanced at Nico. His world contained matters Elaine could discuss only in part, and probably others she would never see. Mara did not need every detail to make her own decision.
“Can I go home?” she asked.
“The immediate threat to your apartment has been checked,” Elaine said. “A reasonable security arrangement while the investigation continues would still be wise.”
“I can live with reasonable.”
Nico gave her a sidelong look. “We may have different definitions.”
“Then we’ll write one down.”
They did. Mara would return to her apartment and tell the security team when she traveled to the new shop. No guard would enter her home or workplace without her invitation unless there was an immediate emergency. Ruth would be informed of anything that affected her building. Nico agreed to give Mara the information she needed to make her own choices.
That evening, Mara went home with her cat. Nico carried the food bag while she unlocked the apartment. He looked around the small living room as though he had never seen it in daylight.
“You’re staring at the bookshelf,” she said.
“It’s leaning.”
“It has always leaned.”
“I can fix it.”
“You can hold it while I tighten the bracket.”
Nico took off his jacket. “Give me the screwdriver.”
They repaired the shelf together. It took twelve minutes, including the time Mara spent stopping Nico from turning the wrong screw. When they finished, he stepped back and checked that it stood straight.
“There,” he said.
“You take instruction surprisingly well.”
“Only from a very demanding mechanic.”
She put the screwdriver away, then returned to find him still in the middle of her living room. Without the estate around him, he seemed uncertain where to stand.
“You can stay for dinner,” she said.
“I’d like that.”
They made pasta from what she had in the kitchen. Mara cut vegetables while Nico watched a pot he had been expressly forbidden to leave unattended. Their shoulders brushed when she reached past him for a spoon. He moved aside, then caught her hand.
“Mara.”
She turned.
“I’m glad you stopped me that morning.”
“So am I.”
“I mean before you knew what was wrong. You trusted yourself.”
“My father spent years teaching me to do that.” She looked at their joined hands. “It took me a while to remember.”
Nico raised her hand to his lips. Mara stepped closer and kissed him. When they parted, the water was boiling over.
She pushed him gently toward the stove. “Your assignment.”
He rescued the pot while she laughed.
On Friday, Mara signed the lease.
Ms. Ellis handed her the keys in the empty service bay. Mara stood alone for a moment after the landlord left. The concrete floor was stained. A fluorescent light flickered near the office door. She could see where the workbench would go, and where she might hang a sign bearing her father’s name.
Her phone buzzed. A message from Nico appeared.
Did you sign it?
She took a photograph of the keys in her palm and sent it back.
I did.
His reply came almost immediately.
Then I’d like an appointment with the mechanic.
Mara smiled and typed,
She hasn’t opened yet.
I can wait.
She pocketed the phone and walked the length of the bay once more. At the far end, she stopped beneath the flickering light and reached for the switch.
It steadied on the second try.
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