Starter Wife (The Jilted Wives Club Book 1) by Bethany Lopez (readera ebook reader TXT) 📗

assistant an absent smile as I strode past her desk, which was positioned outside my office. “Any calls?”

“I left them on your desk.”

“Thanks.”

I walked inside, leaving the door open as I always did unless I was in a meeting and picked up the messages as I sat.

When my phone rang I pressed speaker and said, “Luca Russo.”

“Morning, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Ma, what’s up?” I asked as I separated my messages into respond immediately and it can wait piles.

“Your father told me you’d be joining us on Sunday. I wanted to let you know your brother and sister are coming, along with Sara and Nigel, and Giada is in town, so I called to see if she had any plans and as it turns out she’s free.”

I didn’t bother trying to stifle my groan.

“Ma, Giada and I broke up eight years ago. Can you give it a rest?”

“Luca, there’s no reason why you can’t still be friendly with Giada. After all, you were inseparable all during high school. She’s like one of the family.”

Yeah, right. My ma was endlessly matchmaking. She wanted nothing more than to see me settled with kids like my brother and sister.

“As long as you don’t get it into your head there’s anything more between Giada and I than friendship…”

“Of course not, dear. Anyway, I’ll be making my lasagna, so be sure to come hungry.”

“Always, Ma,” I assured her.

Nothing in this world was better than my ma’s lasagna. Hopefully there’d be some left so I could take it home, but I doubted it.

“Have a good day. See you Sunday.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you, too, Luca.”

I hung up and quickly put the call behind me as I got down to work. It was a full day of meetings, so by the time my father popped his head in to ask me a question I was surprised to see it was already four o’clock.

“Got a minute?”

“Of course,” I replied, leaning back in my chair.

Even if he hadn’t been the boss, I’d always have time for my father.

“I told Michaelson I’d drop these off since I was coming this way.”

He handed me a few blue folders, but when he remained standing rather than taking a seat, I placed the folders on the table and gave him my full attention.

“I’m going to take a vacation next month and I’d like you to handle some of my clients while I’m away.”

“A vacation?” This was the first I’ve heard of it. In fact, I don’t think my father had ever taken a vacation.

“I’m finally taking your mother on that trip to Italy I’ve been promising since before you were born. She deserves it, and … it’s time.”

“Wow,” I exclaimed, honestly shocked. “Does she know yet?”

My dad shook his head and said, “I’m going to tell her Sunday at dinner.”

“She’s gonna lose her mind.”

He grinned and said, “I hope so. And this vacation time will give me a chance to test the waters of being away and, maybe, if things go the way I think they will, you’ll keep the clients permanently.”

“What are you saying? Are you thinking about retiring?”

“Not completely. At least, not yet. But, taking a step back … yeah. You’re ready to take my place, son. You may be young, hell, you’re a lot younger than I was when I started this firm, but like you always say, age is just a number. You were made for the position.”

Utterly floored, I stood and rounded my desk to pull him into an embrace.

“Thanks, Dad, that means a lot. And Ma’s gonna be thrilled. She’ll have you in dance lessons before you know it,” I said with a laugh.

He groaned, but when I stepped back he was smiling.

“She’s been threatening me with those lessons for thirty years. Fifty bucks says it only takes one lesson for her to realize she hates it.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

“All right, I’ll leave you to it. Make some time on Monday and I’ll sit down with you and go over those clients.”

“Will do,” I said as I resumed my position.

“Oh, did Michaelson say what he needed?” I asked, holding up the folders.

“Those are the applicants he liked from his interviews today.”

“Got it, thanks.”

Michaelson was our HR guy, so he did our initial interviews, but the final decision was made by one of the senior managers. We each took turns and this time I was up.

Once I’d looked through the files, I picked up the phone to give him a call.

“Hey, Mick, it’s Luca. Quick question. This applicant, Spaulding, the one you have earmarked for the associate position, did you get a load of her credentials?” I asked.

“Yeah. Her degree is from a great school and her experience with Smith and Smythe is a plus, but she’s been out of the game for almost seventeen years,” he replied.

“Right, but with a little time to brush up on standards and GAAP, I bet she could slide right into a senior associate slot. Why don’t you give Smith and Smythe a call and see if you can speak with someone who worked with her, then use your best judgement.”

“Will do,” Michaelson said. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, Mick,” I said, before hanging up the phone and getting back to work.

Five

Whitney

I whistled as I made French toast, happier than I’d been in a really long time.

As I flipped the buttery, cinnamon goodness onto a plate, my oldest child, Stella, came shuffling into the kitchen mid-yawn.

“Mm,” she moaned, sniffing the air. “What are we celebrating?”

“I got the job,” I cried, waving the spatula around enthusiastically. “And I already got a promotion, if you can believe it.”

Stella scrunched up her nose as she sat on one of the stools at the island.

“How’s that possible?”

“Well, Mr. Michaelson, the man who interviewed me for the associate position, called this morning and said after going back over my resume and talking to his boss, they decided to bring me in as a senior associate. It’ll be more responsibility, and a bit more of a learning curve, but it also