Page 70 of Lost Prince
“Don’t we all?”
He laughs. “I suppose we do. I can tell you right now, I’m ready to ditch this project. I can’t find the right location or competent staff.”
“It can’t be all that bad,” I say. “Chicago is a big city.”
"It's hard to find someone who's organized, personable, and can think on their feet.” He takes a draw of soda from his straw.
Suddenly, he pauses, his eyes widening as he looks at me. "You know, you might be perfect for this job."
I blink, taken aback by his suggestion. "Me? I’ve always worked around food. Not in an office.”
He shakes his head emphatically. "Nonsense. I've seen how you work. You're efficient, great with people, and I've never seen you lose your cool, even during the busiest rushes."
It's nice to have someone notice a job well done. Isn't that what any of us really want? To be seen and appreciated?
"Plus, you've managed to memorize every regular's order, including mine. That kind of attention to detail is exactly what I need."
“Thank you,” I say, feeling uncertain about where this is going.
“What do you say? Would you be willing to interview to be my personal assistant? The pay is steady and comes with benefits.”
I’m not even sure what he does, but I find that doesn’t matter. It's not just a job he's proposing. It's a lifeline, a chance to build a more stable future for myself and my unborn child. The opportunity sparks a flicker of excitement in my chest, something I haven't felt in weeks.
"I… I don't know what to say.”
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small notebook and writes something down, ripping out the page. “I’m sorry I don’t have new business cards yet, but here’s my number. Give me a call and we can set up an interview.”
I tuck the paper into my apron pocket. "Thank you.”
“By the way, I’m Peter.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Diana.”
“Tell me you’ll think seriously about this. I’m desperate, Diana.”
I nod. “I’ll definitely think about it."
I leave his table to return to my duties feeling like the universe has given me a gift. My baby and I will be fine. I will find my place. A place for me and the baby to live and thrive.
26
LAZARO
Ican't shake the thoughts of Diana. Her absence haunts me, a constant ache in my chest that refuses to subside. Days blur together as I throw myself into work, desperate for any distraction.
And when that doesn’t work, I’m in the garage. But even the familiar rhythm of tinkering with engines fails to calm my racing mind. My hands move mechanically, but my thoughts always circle back to her. The memory of her smile, her laugh, the way she'd hum softly while cooking—it's all etched into my brain, tormenting me with what I've lost.
I try to focus on the task at hand, but frustration builds as I fumble with a simple repair. The wrench slips, scraping my knuckles. I barely feel the pain, too consumed by the storm raging inside me. I throw the tool across the shop and give up, heading back into the house.
I shower and consider getting drunk. Matteo finds me pouring the first of what will be many drinks.
“We got an assignment. Let’s go.”
I down the drink. “You don’t need me.”
“Get your head out of your ass, Lazaro. Let’s go.”
I nearly throw the glass. Instead, I give my cousin the finger as I follow him to the car. He prattles on about our mission, but I’m not paying attention. I know my role. Look scary. Maybe growl. Use intimidation to get our way.