Page 34 of Wicked Roses
“You’ve heard correct.”
His smile falters underneath his bushy mustache. “That’s most likely what Ernest would’ve done too.”
“I hear that often. I’m not sure what that has to do with Frausto—”
“Your father wanted to prosecute Lucius Mancino to the fullest extent of the law,” he interrupts, picking a piece of lint off his navy blue service uniform. He flicks it away as if it’s dirt he wants nothing to do with. “I had to explain to him sometimesover charging is not the best course of action.Sometimes, it’s a long game. Not a short one.”
“That’s an interesting anecdote, but has little to do with my case against Michael Frausto.”
“It has everything to do with it, though your lack of experience might make it hard to see it right now.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, irritation prickling me. Men like Commissioner Flynn love making those he sees as inferiorfeelthat way. Though we’ve always been cordial, I’m under no delusion he’s an ally.
“I remember when you were just a freshman girl at Westoria Prep. So much time has passed. Now look at you. Youngest district attorney the city’s ever seen.”
“The election is next year, Commissioner.”
“The first female DA the city’s ever seen,” he goes on as if I haven’t said anything. “I’m proud of you, Delphine. So is your father. We want you to do great things. Thecityis putting its faith in you. I’ll see you at the next Fuel the Child event, won’t I?”
I can’t make sense of his cryptic words before he’s standing up and wishing me a good afternoon.
Once he’s gone, I get up from my desk, shut the door, and kick off my heels. I wind my straightened tresses into a quick updo at the back of my head, clipping it into place, and then I start pacing.
So much happens in a city as massive as Northam, it’s overwhelming. I used to think I could handle it, but doubt’s trickled in. I’m not in the best frame of mind given what’s happened to me. Can I stand my ground against so many conflicting forces?
Between the warring crime families, the city politics behind the scenes, Salvatore’s return to my life, and my assault, there aren’t enough hours in the day to process it all. A shaky sigh leaves me and I cover my face in my hands.
I want so much to be better. Be myself again. I’mtrying.
“Knock, knock. Guess who?”
I flinch, startled by the sudden sound. Chadwick Thomas cracked my office door open and poked his head inside without me noticing. He’s smiling broadly, expecting an equally delighted smile back. I fake one.
“What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d bring you lunch. Brenda mentioned you’ve been staying in the past couple weeks.”
Yes. Because I’ve been terrified of going anywhere…
“Oh,” I say, my fake smile brightening. “Thanks… but you didn’t have to.”
“I figured we’d catch up. I brought your favorite from Garden House.” He shakes the to-go bag enticingly.
I ignore the fact that he likes the Garden House, I merely tolerate it, and I beckon him inside. Chadwick’s probably the most harmless aspect of my life right now. We sit down on the sofa in my office and unpack the food on my sleek glass coffee table.
“I heard you took time off,” he says, handing me utensils and napkins. “Do anything exciting?”
“Hmm? Oh, no… not really. Just, erm, renovations.”
“Your apartment? What needed to be fixed?”
“Just aesthetics,” I fib. I stuff a forkful of kale into my mouth and rack my brain for a subject change.
“Who’re you staying with?”
“A friend. Can you pass the lemon vinaigrette? You know I like extra on my salad.”
He passes it over, snagging the opening to ask a question I should’ve expected. “I know you’re always saying you’re so busy, Delphi, but what do you think about dinner? It doesn’t have to be Grimaldi’s. I’ll even let you pick.”