Ruthless (The Calvettis of New York 2) - Page 10

Duke works hard to live up to his name. I’m surprised he doesn’t parade around the office with a crown atop his head.

“You’ve been working for my son for a few months.” Ivan rests both hands on a blue file folder.

I’m the one who puts every file, paper, and receipt on Duke’s desk and I don’t recognize the folder.

“Six months,” I affirm with a nod of my head.

I pick at the chipped red nail polish on my thumb. It’s no match for my anxiety.

Ivan’s next move is all silence and seriousness. He twists the folder around, slides it across the desk, and leans back in his son’s chair.

I stare at the nondescript folder. There’s no label. I don’t see a clue about what is inside. All I spot is the corner of a white piece of paper sticking out.

“What’s this?” I ask, studying Ivan’s face for a hint.

“Open it.”

His expression gives nothing away, so I look down and flip open the folder. There are two copies of an employment contract inside with my name on them.

I run my index finger under each word on the first page, reading slowly. When I reach the six-figure a year salary, I stop.

That has to be a misprint. I make mid-five figures now.

I move on to the bullet points about a monthly commuting allowance, an expense account, and three weeks paid vacation a year.

Every item listed is a huge step up from the contract I signed a half a year ago.

I skim the other four pages. All the information looks identical to my current contract. I skip over the details about performance reviews, confidentiality, and everything else that I read carefully before I accepted the job.

I finally look up at Ivan and repeat my question. “What is this?”

“Your future.” He slides a silver pen across the desk. “You’ve done remarkable work. I need you to agree to stay with Garent for the next year. Sign on the dotted line, Isabella, and everything listed is yours.”

Chapter 6

Bella

“You never bring me lunch on Mondays.” Max reaches for the sandwich in my hand. “You’re all about getting your week in order.”

That sounds like me.

Typically, I do spend most of the day Monday lining up Duke’s week. I schedule his meetings and go over what he has to accomplish before six p.m. on Friday.

Today is different.

After I signed my new contract, Ivan had to leave Duke’s office to take a call. When he finally came back an hour later, I was at my desk, working on a proposal for a company that Duke wants to buy out.

Ivan apologized for having to leave the building, but he assured me that he’d be back by mid-afternoon. He told me that I could take an extended lunch break if I wanted to celebrate my new contract.

There is no one I’d rather celebrate with than my best friend.

I yank a mini bottle of champagne out of my purse.

Max’s gaze falls to the bottle before it lands back on my face. “Bella?”

Since the bottle was in the discount bin at the liquor store, I have no trouble unscrewing the cap.

“No cork?” He chuckles. “Am I right to assume that this celebratory lunch is low-key since you invested in the cheap stuff?”

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