The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Seeing them closer sets me off once more and I’m done for; laughing harder while I fish around in my purse and wave money at Jackson as if to motion that I need these.

I can’t wait to see Alexi’s face when I hand these over as a thank you for my London themed birthday gifts. I cannot even imagine him getting it at all or breaking a smile on that moody starchy pants face of his; even better. A joke he might not get, but I cannot resist it. New York socks for Kingpin New York himself.

I try to calm myself as Jackson pays for them and hands me back a paper bag that is so street tacky that it hits me all over again in a third intensive wave. Tacky socks in a brown paper bag and I am giving them to the Mafia billionaire as a thank you for a sarcastic gift—just perfect.

I have no idea why this is making me crease up so much, or even why it’s as funny as it is, but I just can’t stop, even when Jackson hands me my greasy dog and I tuck my bag under my arm. I hit the extreme snorting giggles and almost choke on the first bite I ram in my mouth to stop it. Coughing manically as I inhale cooked sausage and dry roll and almost die from it.

‘You know … You’re what he needs, Miss Camilla. Lighten him up sometimes and put a little fun back in his life.’

Jackson sobers me instantly and it isn’t as funny anymore as his words slap me with some reality. Mood dropping like a lead weight that cures me of this weird hysteria, and I smooth down my clothes as I dislodge the obstruction and clear my throat as I compose myself sombrely.

‘I will never be what he needs. I am, however, grateful for my job … and for this.’ I get the words out hoarsely as I dangle my bracelet absentmindedly; no idea why I even bring it to his attention, other than to distract his topic of conversation and Jackson admires it with careful fingers.

‘Alexi showed me it this morning when he had me pick up your cake.’ He seems completely composed, acting as though this is a normal thing for him to hand out, and I just gawp in startled disbelief.

‘What? He showed you this? This morning? You collected the cake?’ I blanch at him and Jackson just smiles at me as though nothing is amiss in that statement; my head whirling like a merry-go-round on speed. Recovering quickly and now just intent on what he said.

guess you must be running the club a lot better than that Joanne ever did. I don’t like her much.’ Jackson is a sweetheart sometimes and very honest about his opinions

a long look

ask warily and watch for a dishonest reaction, but Jackson is not a good liar. There is nothing in that sweet pudgy face to say he knows

genuinely thinks this is a thank

know he sent you.’ I stammer while covering up and try like mad to get my head around this. I mean, I knew he must have pulled some strings

knows you have a sweet tooth. He called them last night and had them make up a special order.’ Jackson smiles knowingly

my bracelet and asked if I would like it. He asked Jackson, who spends a lot of time with me, about my favourite bakery and favourite cake. Hardly the behaviour of the Alexi I know and hate and have

I’m looking at it and second-guessing his

at him before looking up at the grey sky rolling in. The nervous unease storms give me makes me shiver involuntarily. Pushing my other thoughts aside

back, I’m tired and I need to lie down.’ I add and slide my arm into his, dumping my uneaten dog in the bucket. I have completely

feel, but I sure as hell don’t feel as smug about my

club when we get back, so I wander into the office and place the brown bag on the desk. Not sure if he will be back at all today but I’m still planning on staying upstairs tonight regardless. I look around for a pen and a post-it note and scribble one quickly, so I can deposit this bag of hilarious socks for

and thoughtful, then I now feel guilty for buying these to mock him, and hope he just sees them as gratitude for the London themed gifts by New Yorking

glance at the note to double check it reads well, not

London to New York … Something every man

things. He probably won’t get the joke at all and throw them out, but I couldn’t resist. Socks for