Page 120 of The Crowned Garza

She rolls her eyes. “Well, I will leave shutdown to you, then. You know the drill.” She starts to leave but then snaps her fingers and spins around. “Ah, wait, let me go adjust the security log.”

She heads back to her office.

Half a minute later, the kitchen doors swing open and Saint walks in.

“What the—you can’t be here. My boss is...” I dart a glance in the direction of her office, then lower my voice and hiss, “This is myjob. Are you trying to get me fired? Please,leave.”

With zero care or concern, he strides right in until he’s at the opposite end of the prep station, glaring me down. “You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

Is he serious right now? “And that gives you grounds to just bust up into my workplace? Are you kidding me? This isnotthe time or place, Saint.”

Dulce emerges from the hall just then, frowning when she sees Saint. “Do we have a meeting scheduled that I forgot about or...?”

What…?

Saint shakes his head. “Not here for you.”

“Oh,grazie a Dio.”She breathes a sigh of relief. “Because Claudia and I have plans.” As she struts to the exit, she waggles her fingers at me. “See you tomorrow, Garza.Buona notte!”

As she disappears out the door, I shift my gaze back to Saint and point my paring knife at him. “What the hell was that?”

Through gritted teeth, he returns, “Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

“What. Was. That. Saint?” I press.

With a grunt of frustration, he makes a dismissive flick of his wrist. “We can talk about that later. Now, please answer me.”

Talk about that later…?

Right then, it’s as if a window opens, casting light in all the dark places. How on earth did I not figure it out? I’m so stupid.

This restaurant was once called Bon Indigo, where I worked under a different management and had an unpleasant experience. I quit due to said unpleasant experience and just barely mentioned it to Saint. Not long after, the restaurant closed down, got renovated, and reopened under new management with an entirely new team.

What should’ve been the most suspicious to me was that I got called in here for a job interview I never even applied for. And while all of that could’ve easily been sheer coincidence, the biggest tell of all—that somehow wentcompletelyover my head—is the name of the damn restaurant.

Regalità.

A name Saint calls me so often.

All this time… Wow.Howon earth did I miss it?

In disbelief, I ask, “You own this restaurant, don’t you?”

His irritation is visible. He wants to talk about one thing, and I want to talk about another.

One of us has to lose.

Through barely parted lips, he replies, “You own it, too. Your name is on the deed.”

Say what now?“Come again?”

“For fuck’s sake, Tillie. Yes. You wouldn’t let me punish your old boss, so I bought out the struggling restaurant and put that abusive fuck out of a job. For you. Whenever you’re ready to take over, I’ll take my name off the deed and it’s all yours. Can we move on now?”

Un-freaking-believable. “So you’re saying the only reason I have this job is because of you?”

He scoffs. “You barely even got it. Dulce thought you were a flight risk and fought against hiring you. Try to remember where she had you when you first started. I might have gotten you through the door, but everything from that point on was all you. Don’t you dare try to take that away from yourself.”

Secrets, secrets, so many freaking secrets.