Black Death And White Roses (1) Mafia Romance

7. Adjustments and chaffing chains

Roxana

Five hundred emails. Jesus Christ in heaven, when am I going to read all?

All these are from Christian, Lisa, or Peter's that were forwarded to me. And there is also a stack of documents, the size of the tower of Babel, about the project that I should have read before setting foot in this country but obviously didn't.

Christian calls me at seven in the morning asking me how things are going and informing me that somebody, he didn't know who, from the household will come and give me further instructions about how things are going to unfold. This project must be damn important because he never sets foot in the office before nine.

I bite my tongue to not complain about various things, like the fact that neither Peter nor Lisa had a timeline put together, that not even the planning of the east wing is finished and we are supposed to start the renovation about... now, and my personal opinion that we are totally overwhelmed and unprepared.

If I would say that, it would mean that I am overwhelmed and unprepared myself, which is extremely true but I don't want to give him again reasons to fire me. I have to fake it till I make it. To July at least. I do have some professional pride in not leaving the project in ashes, but family comes first.

Wait and work and wait some more while working. Around ten, Tomaso enters my container without knocking. Don't they do that in this country?

"Buongiorno, signorina Roxana!"

"Buongiorno, signor..."

Oh shit, I don't know this guy's surname.

"It's Rossi. But you can stick with Tomaso. We are all friends here," he says, winking.

I am not sure what to make of that so I brush it off and smile very unnatural and profusely nervous.

He sits down at our meeting table and I offer him a cup of my god-awful coffee that he refuses. Thank God.

Mental note: the coffee problem needs to be solved somehow. The boys are going to town this afternoon to search for a place to rent as they don't want to live a year in a container. I will go with them, visit the city briefly, and get some coffee that I need to pay for out of my own pocket, which is... unfortunate. 

"Signorina all your colleagues have signed a non-disclosure agreement before landing in Italia, except you. We understand the unexpected events that lead to you coming here but you have to sign it by the end of this week. I will bring it over tomorrow so you can read through it."

"Sure. I suppose I can sign right away if you have it at hand. I have worked for a few famous people before; I know the drill. It means not talking to journalists if they approach you and stuff like that. No worries, I know how it works."

"Capisco. Ma, I suggest you actually read it this time, as it might have some special clauses."

"Sure, will do. Now to actual work. I have a brief timeline and a cost estimation depending on the approach and options chosen that we have to discuss. Are you enabled to make financial decisions?"

"Hmm, depends on what sums we are talking about, minor to medium ones yes, when it goes into the millions range Don Stefano must be informed. So let me see; he does not like to be bothered with unimportant things. Also, will your team be living here on site after all?"

"No, the boys are looking for accommodation in town, only I am staying here."

He raises his eyebrow in slight surprise.

"I... I prefer it this way so I can have everything under control." Best lie I can come up with on the spot. 

"As you wish. It is just... very uncomfortable. Va bene, I will let the other containers be carried away."