Chapter 9 - The Offer on the River
I looked out the glass window at the muddy brown waters of the Mississippi River churning past the shipping piers.
"I'm a cleaner, Emilio," I said quietly. "I scrub floors for eighteen dollars an hour."
"You were a cleaner," Emilio corrected me, his voice firm and steady. "Today, if you accept, you are the director of restoration for the Corsaro Estate. I will pay you one hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year, provide you with a permanent residence in the east wing carriage house, and give you full authority over every contractor who steps foot on my property."
I stared at him, my heart pounding against my ribs. "Why?"
"Because three nights ago, when I was dying in that dark room, every doctor, lawyer, and bodyguard in New Orleans was letting me drown," Emilio said softly, his eyes searching mine. "You were the only person who told me the truth. You were the only person who had the courage to say no to me."
He stood up slowly, stepping around the long oak table until he stood eighteen inches away from me.
He didn't reach out to touch me. He didn't ask to hold me like he had in his feverish state three nights ago. He respected the boundary I had set between us.
"I don't offer this out of pity, Etta," Emilio added, his voice dropping to a low, intimate whisper. "And I don't offer it as a bribe. I offer it because I am a man who almost lost his life to lies, and I want the truth standing beside me while I rebuild what's left."
I looked down at my hands—my rough, practical hands that had spent fifteen years carrying buckets of vinegar, bleach, and pine oil through the grandest and darkest homes in Louisiana.
Then I looked back up at Emilio Corsaro—a man who had ruled an empire with fear, but who was now willing to rebuild it on honesty.
"On three conditions, Emilio," I said, my voice clear and steady.
Emilio raised an eyebrow, a small smile appearing at the corner of his mouth. "Name them."
"First, the mantel diffusers are banned forever from every room in that house," I said.
"Agreed," Emilio smiled.
"Second, Mrs. Tunney is retired with a full pension immediately," I continued.
"Done by noon," Emilio nodded.
"And third..." I paused, looking into his dark, intelligent eyes. "When the windows are built in your new room... they are designed to open every single morning, no matter what security says."
Emilio let out a deep, clear laugh that rang through the glass office, rich and full of life.
May you like
"Deal," he said, holding out his right hand.
I took his hand. His grip was warm, strong, and steady.
