Donatti jerked his head up. “She … is none of your fucking business.”

“It’s just because I care—”

“You’re skating on very thin ice. I’m about thirty seconds away from blowing.” Talia was silent. Donatti said, “Anything else that needs my immediate attention?”

“At some point, we should go over the employee list and payroll. It’s been over two weeks.”

“Give me about an hour and we’ll do that.”

“Okay.” Talia paused, brushed blond curls from her eyes. Calmly, she said, “Are you going to fire me?”

Donatti stared at her. “What?”

“Is she going to take my place?”

“Terry’s a doctor, not a secretary. Last thing she’d want to do is work for me. At the moment, she doesn’t even like me.” He exhaled again. “But she’ll get over it. She always does.” He shook his head. “What else?”

“Nothing for now,” Talia said. “I’ll set up those appointments.”

When she started to leave, Donatti said, “Talia?” The woman turned around and he pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

She sat.

Donatti said, “I have no intention of firing you. You’re good at what you do and this is your job for as long as you want, okay?”

“Thank you.” A small smile. “I appreciate it.”

“But …” Donatti ran his fingers through his hair. “She isn’t going away. She’s my wife—”

“Ex-wife—”

“We’re Catholic. We got married in a church, and before the eyes of God, she still is my wife. More important than God, before my eyes, she’s still my wife. She will always be my wife. You’ve got to be able to handle that.”

She slowly nodded. “No problem.”

“Anything she wants, you do with a smile on your face.”

“Of course.” Talia looked at him. “Is she demanding or something?”

“Terry?” He shook his head. “I don’t think she ever asked me for a penny beyond what I gave her. Once she started working, she only used my money for Gabe. Even during the divorce, she didn’t ask for anything other than her freedom. She’s a good girl.” He looked at his secretary. “I’m just saying there’s a pecking order and she’s at the top. If I tell you something and she tells you something different, you listen to her, not me. We’ll sort it out later.”

“Understood.” A forced smile. “Anything she wants.”

Donatti’s phone rang. Blocked number. “I’ve got to take this. Close the door on your way out.”

“Of course.” She got up and shut the door as she left.

He slid the green icon and said, “I think you have something that I want.”

“That could be.” A gruff voice crackled over static.

“I need to know what I’m buying.”

“I need to know what you’re paying.”

“I’m not making any offers without seeing the merchandise.”