Page 13 of Vicious Behaviors
“Is that so? Have you ever trained before?” he asks skeptically.
“Corporal Isobel Graham. United States Army. Two tours overseas, at your service, sir,” I reply with a stiff salute and a kick of my heels together. “I’ve trained with our country’s best, Mr. DeLuca. A few gym rats don’t scare me,” I add, throwing a cheeky glance over at Rico, who’s still hovering over me.
“You can go now, Rico. I have this covered,” DeLuca orders.
“Yes, boss,” Rico says before closing the door behind him, leaving us to it.
When I turn back to look at DeLuca, I see something different in his eyes. A respect I didn’t see before I mentioned being in the army.
“First things first, thank you for your service. It’s brave men and women like you on the frontlines that ensure we enjoy all the freedoms we have.”
“Thank you, sir.” I nod, thinking that I have this job in the bag now. But before I can say anything else, DeLuca lets out a despondent sigh and begins to shake his head.
“I’m sorry, Izzie,” he says. “It’s not you. I’m sure you’re more than qualified for the position. It’s just that this gym has been curated to house mostly men. Always has been. The women who are daring enough to come in are few and in between. It’s not exactly a welcoming environment for someone new, let alone a woman.”
I nod, pretending to take his dejection in stride. “Understood.”
I let my gaze wander, giving myself a second to think and come up with a way to get him to reconsider his decision.
On instinct, I glance over at his desk for an answer. It may be cluttered, but it’s also telling. Along with various pens, receipts, and protein bar wrappers scattered around, there is an abundance of picture frames adorning it. One of them is a black-and-white photo of a younger Carmine DeLuca in the ring, gloves up, nose already broken.
However, what really catches my attention is the cluster of family photos in front of it. Mostly, they are pictures of children, Vincent Romano’s children, to be exact, if the photo IDs I memorized last week are accurate. They’re all piled around a smiling DeLuca like they’ve known him forever. The photos are all filled with large smiles and tight hugs, birthday cake frosting, Christmas trees, and little arms slung around his shoulders. All of them tell a story. They say that DeLuca is not only an old friend but also part of the family.
Then there’s the one that stops me completely and gives me a moment’s hope. In it, DeLuca is standing in the middle, his face glowing with a proud, happy smile as two girls press kisses on each of his cheeks. He beams with quiet joy, wrapped in the innocent affection of none other than Stella and Annamaria Romano.
I tilt my head toward the frame and innocently ask, “Are these your granddaughters?”
He looks over, and his entire face softens like butter in a hot pan. “Yes, they are,” he says, voice dropping into something warm and weathered. “That’s my Stella and Anna. They’re the apple of my eye.”
“They’re beautiful,” I say, lifting the frame carefully. I’m learning more about the Romano family’s dynamics from this simple interaction than most agents have in years. Apparently, both DeLucas have been brought into the fold as familymembers, and not just business acquaintances. “Do they ever come here to train?”
He chuckles, but I can tell I hit a sore spot. “Not really. My Anna is not the type. She prefers books and poetry to using a dumbbell. However, Stella used to come in when she was younger. Not anymore, though. The minute she turned thirteen, she started to train on her own. She said that the place felt like too much of a ‘sausage fest’ for her. Her words, not mine.” He sighs sadly.
I try to hide my smile. Stella sounds like the kind of girl I’d get along with. If she didn’t belong to a crime family like the Outfit, that is.
“Shame,” I murmur, turning the photo slightly in my hands. “Seems like your granddaughter might have been on to something, even at such a young age. This gym could definitely use more women.” DeLuca’s smile fades, just a little. “I mean…” I set the frame down and straighten my shoulders. “I get it. Being the only woman in a room full of guys who’ve never had to share space is not exactly easy. But if a place like this felt safer, more inclusive, then maybe young women like Stella wouldn’t have to train alone. She could come here. And you’d get to see her a whole lot more.” Carmine stays silent, but I can see in his eyes that the thought lands just where I wanted it. “Oh, well.” I sigh and start slowly walking toward the door. “Guess I’ll just have to keep looking. Thanks for your time, Mr. DeLuca. It was a pleasure meeting you. And you truly do have a beautiful family. You’re a very lucky man.”
With a smile stitched to my face, I slowly turn toward the door, letting my words sink in, when I hear him say, “Wait.”
I stop, flashing a slow, Cheshire-cat grin. Then I turn around, one brow arched, the smile wiped clean from my face.
DeLuca leans back in his chair and lets out a long exhale through his nose. He looks at the photo of the two girls again before meeting my eyes.
“My grandson practically lives at this gym, but it sure would be nice if my Stella felt like this place was hers, too.”
I keep my expression neutral. “I’m sure it would.”
“Though I’m still not sold on the idea that hiring one woman trainer will get the job done.”
“That’s where marketing comes in,” I explain. “If you give me a chance, I can market the hell out of DeLuca’s gym and give it the makeover it needs to get more women through the doors.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“Innovation always is.”
“Hmm,” he hums, considering all I bring to the table. “You know, most people’s first question going into a job interview is asking how much it pays.”
“You seem to be a fair man, to me,” I reply without missing a beat. “The only thing I ask is to make my own hours.”
