Chapter 6 - CLARA STOPPED BEING MATTEO’S SECRETARY BEFORE SHE LET HIM BECOME ANYTHING ELSE
Six months later, Clara’s promotion became official.
Chief of Staff for Strategic Operations.
Reporting to operating committee.
Not Matteo directly.
Compensation approved by independent board directors.
HR documented.
Matteo recused.
He hated recusing.
Clara enjoyed.
“You don’t get vote.”
“I know.”
“You don’t even get to see salary discussion.”
“I know.”
“Are you suffering?”
“Deeply.”
“Excellent.”
She accepted.
New office.
Not huge.
Still on executive floor.
Her old desk outside Matteo’s office went to another secretary named Janice Patel.
Janice had boundaries.
Matteo learned quickly.
“Ms. Patel, move my nine.”
“No.”
Matteo stared.
Janice looked at calendar.
“Board chair requested.”
Clara watched from hallway.
Almost cried with pride.
Later Matteo said:
“You trained her.”
“I did nothing.”
“She says no.”
“Healthy workplace.”
He muttered.
Then Clara started strategy work.
Port modernization.
Hotel risk review.
Vendor governance.
Ironically, Leo’s case triggered entire procurement reform.
No family referrals without disclosure.
Beneficial ownership checks.
Rotating audit.
External hotline.
Daniel Brooks joined controls team.
The twelve-dollar error became office legend.
Good.
Criminal process moved slowly.
Crane pleaded guilty to charges related to bombing and conspiracy.
Vero contested, then negotiated after evidence.
Rusk’s case centered financial crimes and obstruction; direct murder involvement remained unproven.
Matteo struggled with incomplete.
Clara reminded.
“You know enough.”
“Do I?”
“You know Leo was target.”
“You know why.”
“You know who arranged bomb.”
“You know chain.”
“You do not know every sentence spoken.”
“People die without transcripts.”
Matteo hated that.
Eventually accepted.
Leo’s death anniversary came.
Nine? Now tenth.
Matteo usually disappeared that day.
This year Clara suggested:
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Do not work.”
“I always work.”
“I know.”
“Go somewhere he liked.”
Matteo frowned.
“Where?”
“You’re his brother.”
“Why are you asking me?”
He thought.
Then smiled.
“Baseball.”
Leo loved Cubs.
So Matteo, Marco, Elena, Clara attended afternoon game.
No corporate box.
Clara insisted.
Regular seats? Matteo security complications, but private club perhaps.
Leo’s paper crown? Marco brought photocopy maybe.
They ate terrible hot dogs.
Elena cried during seventh inning.
Matteo laughed when opposing fan heckled him without knowing identity.
Life.
After, Matteo asked Clara:
“Dinner?”
She knew.
Investigation mostly resolved.
Reporting line fixed.
Her pulse changed.
“What kind?”
“A date.”
“No work.”
“No security at table.”
“Security in building?”
“Probably.”
She laughed.
“Fine.”
Their first date was terrible.
Restaurant too formal.
Matteo knew chef.
Everyone stared.
Clara hated.
She said:
“This is not normal.”
“I don’t do normal.”
“Learn.”
They left before entrée.
Walked to diner.
Matteo in expensive suit at counter.
Clara ate fries.
He drank coffee.
She asked:
“What did you want to be when you were twelve?”
He blinked.
“Why?”
“Date question.”
“CEO.”
“No child wants CEO.”
“I did.”
“That explains everything.”
He laughed.
Then:
“Architect.”
Clara stared.
“Really?”
“I liked drawing buildings.”
“Why didn’t?”
“My father.”
Family business.
“What about you?”
“Teacher.”
“Why secretary?”
“Life.”
She told.
After Sophie died, Clara’s marriage collapsed.
She needed stable hours.
Medical bills.
Moved Chicago near brother.
Executive administration paid well.
She was good.
No shame.
“But you wanted more?”
“Sometimes.”
Hence promotion.
Matteo listened.
No fixing.
Good.
Then:
“Do you want children again?”
Heavy.
First date maybe too heavy.
Clara stared.
“I don’t know.”
“Sorry.”
“No.”
“It’s okay.”
She thought.
“I spent years afraid having another child would replace Sophie.”
“I know that is irrational.”
“It isn’t.”
She looked.
“Thank you.”
Then:
“What about you?”
“Children?”
“Yes.”
“I assumed someday.”
“Never prioritized.”
“You’re forty-three.”
“Thank you for arithmetic.”
She smiled.
No promises.
No rushed future.
Second date better.
Museum.
Third at Clara’s apartment after security repairs.
She cooked.
Matteo tried chopping onions.
Disaster.
Romance slowly.
But danger of power still.
Company gossip exploded.
They refused secret.
HR disclosure.
Matteo formally notified board after relationship became serious.
Clara moved entirely out of any direct compensation/reporting.
Some employees accused favoritism anyway.
Clara hated.
She worked harder.
Matteo told her not to.
“I have to prove.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because then rumor owns workload.”
She stared.
Good point.
Independent review of her promotion timeline showed decision predating romance.
Board documented.
Enough.
One afternoon, junior executive made comment:
“Sleeping with boss works.”
Clara heard.
She went still.
Matteo also heard from corridor.
His face changed.
Clara immediately looked at him.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
Good.
She handled.
“Say it again.”
Executive went pale.
“I was joking.”
“Explain joke.”
Silence.
“HR.”
He later apologized.
Discipline proportionate.
Not firing at Matteo’s order.
Clara felt stronger because she handled.
That evening:
“Thank you.”
Matteo asked.
“For?”
“Not destroying him.”
“I wanted to.”
“I know.”
“Extremely.”
She laughed.
Then kissed him first.
There.
No dramatic confession.
A kiss in kitchen.
Matteo froze.
Then asked:
“Can I?”
Clara laughed against mouth.
“You are already being kissed.”
“Still.”
“Yes.”
He kissed back.
Sophie’s photo was on shelf.
Leo’s paper crown photocopy beside fridge because Marco joke.
No ghosts objected.
Weeks later, Clara dreamed of Sophie laughing.
She woke crying.
Matteo beside.
He did not say:
It’s okay.
He asked:
“Tell me.”
She did.
Sophie at zoo.
Sophie sneezing.
Sophie hating peas.
Matteo listened.
Then told Leo story.
They built intimacy through dead they loved, not despite them.
One night Clara said:
“We cannot become two people whose relationship is grief.”
Matteo nodded.
“So tomorrow no dead relatives.”
“Excellent.”
“What do normal couples discuss?”
“Laundry.”
He frowned.
“Terrifying.”
They argued about movies.
Food.
Work.
His security habits.
Her refusal to answer texts after ten.
He learned.
She learned his silence sometimes meant thought, not anger.
He learned her humor sometimes covered fear.
Slow.
Healthy.
Then one morning, Clara sat in his chair again.
Matteo entered.
She pointed pen.
“Your tie is crooked.”
He looked down.
“It is not.”
“Dishonesty.”
“Clara.”
“Disloyalty begins with small movements.”
Matteo laughed.
Then walked behind desk.
Instead of ordering her out, he sat on edge.
“Move over.”
She blinked.
“Chair only holds one.”
“Then get out.”
“Ah.”
“Authoritarianism returns.”
He kissed forehead.
Outside, Janice heard laughter and continued typing.
May you like
Ordinary.
That was miracle.
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