Amapola Part 2

"Sir, Miss Carlota Car..." I’m interrupted as I announce her.
"Salvatore, my dear, it’s been so long." She walks toward him, and he stands up to greet her.
"Carlota, please sit down," he says as she steps back, and the obvious familiarity between them bothers me. "Amapola." He gestures to the other chair, and I take a seat.
"Don’t bother, darling. I came to take you out for lunch." I become nothing more than a spectator to their interaction.
"Carlota, I can’t. I’m swamped with work and..."
"Salvatore," her long red nails trace the collar of his shirt, "you’re always busy and full of work, but that never stopped us from finding some time, right? Look, I have a meeting scheduled for two-thirty, and now it’s probably your lunch break, so we can combine business with pleasure. We’ll have lunch, do other things, and then discuss the casinos," she says. If I could, I would pry her claws off him, but I remain seated, simply observing.
"Amapola, my schedule?"
"Lunch is ready in the meeting room, sir, and after that, your next appointment is with Miss Carbone," I reply.
"You see? There’s no reason to say no, and you still owe me a dinner. Don’t think I’ve forgotten." A provocative smile plays on her red-painted lips.
"Dinner?"
"Yes, Salvatore. You were supposed to have dinner with my parents and me on Monday, but Fabrizio said you had to travel to handle some mafia business. We all know the mafia always comes first, right? We understand, and Papa is eagerly waiting for you, and so am I." This woman definitely talks too much, or is it just me who can’t digest what her words mean?
"Fine, Carlota, let’s go," Salvatore says, starting to gather his things from the desk.
"What should I do with the lunch, sir?" I ask, my voice coming out rougher than I intended, as if a lump were stuck in my throat.
"Throw it out, dear." The insufferable woman chimes in. "Surely a secretary doesn’t need to ask such a question to a man like Salvatore. He has more important things to decide than what to do with a simple lunch."
"Amapola, I’ll be back at three. If anyone asks for me, let me know, please," Salvatore says, looking at me in a strange way. I realize I’m still sitting in the chair. In fact, it feels like I’m shrinking and sinking into it.
"Yes, sir." I avoid looking him in the eyes.
I watch the woman intertwine her arm with Salvatore’s, and the lump in my throat grows even bigger. The elevator doors open, and they step inside. I observe from a distance as she smiles, touches him constantly, and keeps her eyes locked on mine until the doors close.
I run to the bathroom, nervously splashing water on the back of my neck. My head feels like it’s burning. After recovering, I fix my makeup before leaving. I can’t let this get to me. After all, what was I expecting? That Salvatore would ask me to be his girlfriend? That we’d have exclusivity? Yes, that’s exactly what I expected, but it’s now crystal clear that I won’t have that.
"Are you okay, miss?" Amadeu asks as I leave the bathroom. He was waiting at the door. "You rushed in there so suddenly."
"Don’t worry, Amadeu. I just really needed to use the bathroom. Has lunch arrived?"
"Yes, miss, it’s already in the meeting room."
"Mr. Salvatore won’t be joining me, so would you like to do the honors?" I ask, trying to be friendly.
"I don’t think I should, miss. The boss wouldn’t like that."
"Don’t worry, Amadeu. Just like you, I’m only one of Salvatore’s employees, so shall we?"
"Has the boss already had lunch?" Rico interrupts our conversation.
"Yes, sir, he just left," I inform him.
"I thought he’d be having lunch here. I came to join him."
"Amapola ordered lunch for you, sir. If you’d like, you could join her in the meeting room," Amadeu says, and I look at him in surprise. How am I supposed to have lunch with a man I barely know?
"It would be a pleasure, ragazza, to enjoy your company."
"Alright," I reply, feeling a bit awkward, but I make sure to drag Amadeu along with us. He might come in handy if I need protection.
The lunch truly surprised me. Rico, and later Fabrizio, who also joined us, were extremely pleasant. Despite feeling that their questions were always digging for answers and information, I felt comfortable with them.

Fabrizio was more observant, while Rico didn’t hold back his words—there was definitely no filter between what he thought and what he said. They wanted to know about me and my life, how Salvatore had decided to bring me into the company. When I mentioned going back to university, they suggested a toast to celebrate my return to school.
Amadeu, not being a man of many words, joined in the lighthearted moment. He was always attentive, as if he were guarding a treasure. I liked him, and I sensed it was mutual. Learning that he was Angela’s son was a pleasant surprise. Just as I felt a maternal connection to her, I developed a sibling-like bond with him. Amadeu became, for me, the brother I never had.
Around two-thirty in the afternoon, we wrapped up our little moment of relaxation. I was grateful I didn’t end up completely alone, even though Salvatore was constantly on my mind. At least I got to enjoy myself a bit.