Page 7 of Letters From Victor

“Barbara,” I corrected him, surprised by my boldness. “And thank you.”

His dark hair was slicked back, and his pencil mustache was impeccably groomed. He wore a finely tailored charcoal suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and lean waist.

Victor’s gaze lingered on me for a moment before he gestured toward the heavy oak door. “Come, Barbara. Let me show you around my office.”

I hesitated, glancing at the organized stacks of paperwork on my desk. “I really should finish getting everything in order out here.”

“Nonsense.” Victor chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That can wait. I insist.”

Reluctantly, I rose from my chair and followed him into his spacious office. The room was adorned with rich mahogany paneling and plush burgundy carpets. A large windowoverlooked the bustling city streets below. The morning sunlight filtered through the slats of the Venetian blinds, casting striped shadows across the room.

A large mahogany desk dominated the center of the office, its surface nearly bare save for a few neatly arranged pens, a silver photo frame, and a leather-bound calendar diary.

Victor crossed to his desk and retrieved the diary. He held it out to me, his fingers brushing the gold-edged pages. The cover was embossed with an intricate design, the ridges and whorls catching the light as I turned it over.

“I’ll need you to manage my schedule—ensure I’m where I need to be when I need to be there,” Victor explained, his voice low and close to my ear.

“Of course, Mr. Cardello, but?—”

“Victor,” he corrected.

I nodded. “Victor… But as I mentioned during my interview, I’m only available to work in the office three days per week.”

A slow smile spread across Victor’s face, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “What a fortunate coincidence. Those are the only three days I frequent the office myself.”

I shrugged and nodded. “Unconventional, but clearly, it works for you.”

Victor perched on the edge of his desk and studied me for a moment. “Conventional is the absolute last thing I want to be.”

My breath caught in my throat as Victor’s intense gaze caught and held mine. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, unable to look away despite the warning bells sounding in the back of my mind. Clearing my throat, I managed to break eye contact and focused on the diary in my hands, flipping through the gold-edged pages.

“Well then, shall we go over your upcoming appointments for the week?” I asked, my voice strained, even to my ears.

He nodded, and I flipped open the diary to the current week. Victor’s elegant script filled the pages—names, times, and places penned in black ink.

“I don’t see anything for today, but you have a meeting at ten-thirty tomorrow morning,” I remarked, glancing up at him. “Someone named Kowalski.”

Victor nodded and consulted his gold wristwatch. “Yes. A good learning opportunity for you, I think.”

“For me?”

Victor nodded again. “I’d like you to assist me in that meeting. Nothing complicated. Coffee, take notes, that sort of thing.”

“Do I need to prepare anything?”

“No, Mr. Kowalski is coming to me with an offer. All we need to do is listen. And hear what he’s not saying. You up for it?”

I smiled. “Sure.”

“And one more thing, Barbara.”

My stomach twitched as I blinked and looked up at him. “Yes?”

“Block my schedule from noon to two today.”

“Of course.” My stomach calmed, and I exhaled a small sigh. “Any reason you’d like me to notate?” I smoothed the front of my pale blue dress.

He smiled, a slow, indulgent grin creeping across his face. “I’m taking you out to lunch.”

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