Reputation

As the day progressed, each of my underlings came in and handed me their reports about what could make more money for the clients I gave them. I spent some time with each, hearing them out while offering some polish to their thoughts. Janet waited through each of them and after each left, we delved back into the Giordano account, her hand still getting cozy with my knee.

"Thanks again for your assistance."

Janet seemed to have a twinkle in her eyes, "It was my pleasure. Remember, I'm here to help you whenever and however you need." Her hand shifted from my knee to my inner thigh and began a light grazing there.

"Uh," I gulped. "What are you doing? Did Triela contact you?"

"No... well, yes. But that was only because she asked where you went to lunch. And isn't it obvious what I'm doing?"

I reached down and grabbed her wrist, "No, what I mean is what is with this new attitude of yours? Ever since we've met, you've hated me. Understandably so, but..."

"Can't a girl change her mind?" Besides, if you're good enough for a future mob kingpin, then maybe I misjudged you." Janet licked her lips and pushed her hand through my defenses; forcibly placing it on my crotch. "Oh, that could be why."

I grabbed her wrist again and this time pulled it away from me, holding it firm. I tried to act coy, "I don't know to what you are referring, but even if that was the case, which it isn't, wouldn't you be worried?"

Janet gave a playful grin, which turned almost sinister after she did. "Not everyone is afraid of Triela Giordano." She straddled my lap and shoved her cleavage forward. "C'mon stud, I'll let you touch them all you want, whenever you want. Wouldn't you rather be with someone who won't put your life in danger? Someone you don't have to meet in secret every time you wish to see each other? I can be that for you." She finished by leaning forward, her lips pressing against mine.

It took me a moment to break the spell. I glanced at the clock and knew if I didn't hurry, I'd be late for Triela. I grabbed Janet by her hips, eliciting a smile. She thought I accepted her offer but I was just trying to get a base so I could get her off me. I proceeded to lift her up, turn her around, and place her on my desk. Her hands went to my belt but I took a step away.

"You tease you." Janet's expression was back to playful but turned to one of confusion when I took another step away. "Hey!"

I'm sure the struggle was evident on my face. Her proposal had merit and she was gorgeous as well; a classic 50's pinup girl in an executive suit. But that would have been lust, not love. I couldn't just sweep all my new feelings that I have for Triela under the rug, nor all the memories of being treated like a leper in my own workplace because of Janet's constant reminders of my barbaric nature to everyone. "Thanks for the offer but I'm going to be late."

Janet shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh before smiling once again. "I suppose I can wait for you to get that murderer out of your system." She grabbed a hold of my tie and pulled me into a kiss. Her tongue pushed past my lips and did a pleasurable dance before she released me. "Just don't make me wait too long Troy. A girl can only hold out for so long."

All through my drive home, my mind couldn't let go of Janet. Her behavior was odd to say the least, but her proclamations rang true. Could Triela be my future? Could I really be comfortable living in secrecy? My heart felt so but the rest of me was conflicted.

I pulled up to my apartment building at quarter to nine and Triela was already there, waiting in front of her car. She looked so demure and sweet. My heart rate began to increase; what was I thinking before? I quickly got out of my Chevy Cruze and went over to her.

I took both of her hands in mine, "You look stunning." And she really did. It was the first time I had seen her in something other than business attire. Her red dress was form fitting, hugging her curves nicely, and it sparkled in the moonlight. She had also put some effort in her hair as if she tried to curl it, got frustrated with the results, and then just tussled it because of a lack of time. She was beautiful.

Triela blushed, "Thank you."

"Oh, you have a little something," I put my hand to the side of her neck and wiped a small blotch of red from it. I rubbed the substance between my thumb and index finger.

Triela's eyes went wide before she started digging around in her purse. "Here, I have a tissue." She pulled one out and handed it to me.

"What is this?" I asked as I wiped it on the paper.

Triela's head tilted and her eyes narrowed, "Do you really wanna know?"

Looking at her, I suddenly and very much did NOT want to know what I just had on my fingers. "No."

"It was some spaghetti sauce." I let out a relieved breath, thankful for her lie. "Speaking of which, where we goin' tonight?"

Oops. With all that had happened at work and with this being last minute... I had no idea. "Uh."

Triela smiled, "That's okay, why don't we start with dinna and go from there?"

"I know a great place." I opened up the door for my date, "Shall we?"

I pulled up to Oscar's, a five star restaurant known for their steaks. After handing the keys to the valet, Triela and I made our way up the red brick walk to the entrance. I kept glancing at her every couple of steps, still amazed that this lovely creature is willingly on a date with me.

Conversation flowed between us. I found Triela was well versed in the classics; art, music, and literature were all great sources of discussion. Apparently, her father wanted to make sure his daughter was educated. I talked about my hobbies of astronomy and hiking to which she was intrigued. We were able make each other laugh and we were genuinely enjoying each other's company.

"Thanks again for calling my boss today."

"Well, my intention wasn't to get you promoted. I felt I owed you for tryin' to save me. I'm glad it worked out." Triela took a sip of wine, her face becoming serious. "I understand that you don't wanna know what I do..."

I interrupted her. I knew this was going to come up. "After going through your portfolio today, I know full well what you do for a living. I just prefer to not know the details."

Triela glared at me for a second, "Not many can get away with cuttin' me off mid-sentence." Her face then softened. "But you see, I can't guarantee that. Sometimes my work follows me, like yesterday."

I leaned across the table and cupped her hands in mine. "I won't lie and say I haven't second guessed myself about being in a relationship with you because honestly, I can't say that I approve of what you do. But that's true of my job as well. Just look at how many people 'Occupied Wall Street' in protest. There are things we all must do to achieve our business desires and I will support you. If I am somehow there in a few instances, well, that's a risk I am willing to take. To me, you are worth it." I meant every word. My heart wouldn't allow me otherwise.

Triela started to tear up at my words. She pulled a tissue from her purse, blew her nose, and then sniffled with a smile. "By the way, thanks for not choosing an Italian restaurant. We could have gotten in trouble entering any number of those establishments. Besides, this is really good."

That was the last time we discussed the issue of her job. I knew the ramifications if something should arise with me around but I didn't care. I wanted to be with Triela. I knew it.

We had ended up staying in the restaurant, drinking and laughing until the placed closed. I just didn't think two people could chat for so long and still have such a superb time together. With it being late, we just went back to my place. Unfortunately, Triela said she had an early morning so we decided to end our night at her car.

"I had a fantastic evenin'," Triela tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure." I leaned and kissed her. Her lips were soft and tender. When it broke, she put a hand to her lips as I opened the door. "Drive safe."

Triela got in, "And thanks for makin' me feel like a woman." She didn't look at me when she said it, instead turning the ignition and keeping her eyes forward.

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I simply nodded as I shut her door. It became obvious why Triela would choose me. No one treated her the way I did. As for me, I have to admit I craved seeing the vulnerability in such a strong, tough woman. To know I did that created a sense of warmth in me. Despite her hard exterior, she was smart, fun, and caring. I also knew that I would be the only one to see it. A shame, really, because Triela is that wonderful.

The next few weeks, my life was all about sneaking around. With Triela, we got together whenever we could, which wasn't easy. We enjoyed the theatre, the opera, museums, and simple walks in the parks. She relished in my gentlemanly ways; every time I opened a door for her, complimented her, or gave her a gentle touch, she would melt into me. I cherished every minute of it. We were definitely becoming more than just a fling.

At work, it was all about avoiding Janet. The change in her demeanor was insane; she was a woman possessed. Every day she found an excuse to visit my office and every day I had to find an excuse to leave it. She would also try to corner me in other places as well, going as far as entering the men's restroom with me. She was persistent, and it felt like her goal was for us to be a couple. Not only was she very hands on in trying to get me to bed her, but her words were meant to drive a wedge between Triela and I, constantly bringing up that my life is a secret and I could soon end up dead.

It was a rare Sunday night that Triela and I was out on the town. Triela said it would be different when she became in charge, but just like the rest of life, crime is at its best on weekends. She looked sexy in a little black dress and I was wearing a black, pinstriped suit. It took me a minute to get her joke of me looking like a cliché.

Dinner was at a classy French restaurant, Moreau's, and it was easily surpassing its reputation in ambiance alone.

"So what is it?" Triela was seemingly dissecting her food with her fork.

"It's a French delicacy. Try it." Triela just stared at me. I raised my eyebrows and grinned back. "I'll tell you after."

Tentatively, Triela took a bite. She shrugged her shoulders, "It's not bad."

"Not bad?" I sat dumbfounded. "We're in perhaps the best French restaurant in the world outside of France and you say 'Not bad'?"

Triela took another bite, "So what is it?"

"Snails and duck liver." I sat back, still digesting her prior statement.

Triela laughed at my disposition, "Look, no offense to the French, but I'm Italian. Just wait until I cook for you."

"You? Cook?" I leaned forward and took my first bite of this exquisite delight. "Really?"

Triela gently slapped my arm, "What do you mean by that? I'm Italian, of course I can cook."

"Just because you're Italian doesn't mean you can cook. That response is stereotypical. It's like saying all Americans are nothing but money grabbing, materialistic, and over consuming ego maniacs."

"So if you're not the money grabbing materialistic type, why are in the business you're in?"

"Do you really think that?" I exasperated and then began to ramble, "Look at my one bedroom apartment, I drive a Cruze because it gets good gas mileage... I do what I do because I like math. That and I want to help people make good decisions with their money." I was finally able to catch myself, noting Triela's raised eyebrows and mirthful grin. She was teasing me so I smiled as I pointed my fork at her, "You should be happy I assumed you couldn't cook. Women fought hard to get rid of the stereotype of being good for nothing but cleaning house and having dinner ready and on the table by six."

Triela giggled, "Okay, I take my slap back. But I'm goin' to knock your socks off first chance I get with some Italian home cookin'."

"I look forward to it."

As we exited the restaurant, I inhaled deeply. "I love this time of day."

Triela chuckled, "You mean night."

"Yeah, that too."

We started walking and, to be honest, all my attention was focused on the woman latched onto my arm.

"Umph," I grimaced as my shoulder ran into someone.

"Watch where you're going, asshole!" A sleek dressed man with a supermodel on his arm scoffed at me.

"I'm sorry, Sir. My fault."

"Why the fuck are you apologizin' for?" Triela's face was masked in anger. "He's the dick that ran into you."

I turned to my girl, "Relax, it's all right. No big deal."

"That's right," the sleek man shoved me in the shoulder from behind. "No big deal," he added as they walked toward the restaurant.

"Come back here you fuck!" Triela screamed as she was trying to break through my grasp to charge after him.

I normally would have responded to the shove, especially since I did apologize but my concentration was now completely diverted to the ticking time bomb that was ready to explode in my arms. I quickly forced eye contact with her. "Triela, calm down. It's all right. We're fine. No harm done."

It took a few seconds for Triela to visibly compose herself but there was still a fire in her eyes. She took a step back and ran a hand through her hair, "Okay, I'm calm now."

"Are we good? Ready to go dancing?" I threw my arms up and shook my hips.

"Yeah," Triela laughed at my awkward movements. "But I gotta go to the bathroom now. Here hold this," she gave me her purse. "I'll be right back."

I watched from outside as Triela went back inside Moreau's. The sleek man and his date were at the reception desk when Triela cut in front of him. She was frantically telling the maître d something. Whatever it was, the maître d then left to go inside to where the tables were located. As soon as he passed the corridor and out of sight, Triela turned viciously with her elbow up. Even outside I heard the sleek man scream in agony as he hunched over. I was sure his nose was broken as it was gushing blood.

Simultaneously, I charged into the restaurant and due to the commotion, the maître d returned.

"Oh, I am so sorry." Triela draped herself over the now not so sleek man. "I didn't know you were right behind me. You shouldn't sneak up on a girl like that. I'm so sorry. But you're a man, you'll be okay. This is no big deal." She patted him on the back as she smiled at me. She then turned to the maître d. "I'm sorry for troublin' you. I didn't realize my date had grabbed my purse for me." She walked over to me, "I'm ready to go dancin' now." She was proud of herself. I wasn't. And her face fell upon seeing my expression.

The silence was deafening as we walked to the car. Even the city seemed to mute every noise from us. I first opened the door for Triela and then walked around and got in myself. I put the key in the ignition but couldn't bring myself to turn it.

"You're mad at me."

I sighed and then turned to face Triela. Her face showed disappointment. If any of her colleagues were here, they would have applauded her actions, probably even would have helped, and she would have had a sense of accomplishment. But with me, she now felt ashamed. This was the true Triela.

"I'm not mad. It's just..." I took a deep breath to ensure I was precise with these next words. "It's just I know that is not you. In the past, that may have been you, but it's not anymore."

Triela's eyebrows raised, "Are you sure about that?" Her words were soft and expressed her insecurity.

"Positive. If it were, then we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. You wouldn't have asked me to wait outside the restaurant in hopes that I wouldn't see what you were planning to do. Right now, you care about my reaction. You care about me. You are most definitely different."

Triela put her head in her hands, gently crying. "I'm sorry Troy. You're right. I know what I did wasn't right, but you've done everything for me and I wanted to show you that I can bring something to our relationship too."

"But you do." I lifted her head, forcing eye contact. "You bring you to this relationship. Besides, I can't have my girlfriend, the woman I love, get in trouble over something trivial on our date. What would I do if..." I stopped when I realized she started crying harder." What's wrong?"

"Did you just call me your girlfriend? Did you just say you love me?"

"Yes, I love my girlfriend, Triela Giordano. I love you."

"Oh God Troy," Triela wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. It was passionate and full of fervor. "I love you too."

After our impromptu make out session, we made the drive over to the Whirl Room, an upscale place where couples can partake in the refined nature of dancing. We marched right onto the dance floor and I felt the trepidation in Triela as I held her in my arms.

"Are you ready for this?"

Triela nervously glanced down at her feet. "This isn't what I thought you meant when you asked me to go dancin'."

I chuckled, "Expecting the club scene, were you? Perhaps a funky disco night?" I put my fingers to her chin and raised it. "With you being such a classy woman, I thought that this would be more appropriate. Relax and just follow my lead." I repositioned my hands, one in hers and the other I placed firmly on her hip.

Triela gave an anxious smile as the music began to play. My feet began to move in cadence to the beat, forcing Triela to move likewise with every footfall. It was a waltz and after a few hesitant movements, the woman in my arms smiled, realizing she only needed to react to my movements.

By the time the music faded, Triela's smile was ear to ear. "That was wonderful. I felt so graceful."

The band began their next tune. "Ooh," I responded, my playful tone evident.

"What?"

"If you enjoyed that, you're going to love this." I locked our frames and began guiding her in step to the tango.

We danced the night away. Triela's smile was ever present and her girlish attitude, so unlike how she would behave with anyone else was unrelenting. I was positive she changed from her stern personality; that she knew she didn't have to be that way in front of me.

It all started with eye contact. We were in the elevator when, after me pressing the button for the fourth floor, our eyes locked. Triela appeared so demure standing there. I easily closed the one-step distance separating us. I put a hand to her cheek and kissed her. It wasn't a peck either. It was one of those love, lust, and full of need connections.

Triela reciprocated, equal in lasciviousness, as her arms eagerly wrapped around my neck, her fingers entangling in my hair. I let one of my hands move around her and cupped her ass and the other moved down her side, following every contour of her form. Time stood still as we enjoyed our own private heaven, our bodies melting into each other.

"Eh hem."

The gruff voice startled Triela and I, causing a small separation as we glanced over to where the elevator doors opened. "Are you getting off?" the short old man added.

"Sorry, Sir," I peered behind the man, surprised to see the lobby.

"Well?" The old man responded, slightly irritated.

"Uh, we're going up."

"You just came from up?"

I looked to Triela, "I suppose we missed our floor." She giggled. "What floor, Sir?"

"Sixth." He hesitantly stepped into the elevator as I pressed the four and the six buttons. "Wouldn't a bed be more comfortable for what you were doing?"

I chuckled, "That's where we were going before we got sidetracked."

We left our conversation at that. I stood in the back, simply enjoying the feel of Triela's palm in mine as the old man kept looking back at us. Every time his head turned, I got the impression he was disappointed there wasn't any porno action occurring. The elevator beeped, signaling our arrival at my floor, again.