News III

"Mr. Di Mauro?" Marilyn's voice sounded a bit scratchy but she did not mind it, she tilted her gaze to the other side instead. "Elma? Oh, Elma…"

"Auntie," Elma cooed with delicate charm in her voice and dumped her chin inside the woman's crook, tugging her close. "You will not believe my luck today," she cried. "I got a job!"

"Oh, darling, you did, didn't you? Why did you not call? And does your job have anything to do with the handsome gent by the door?" Marilyn spoke without caution as if Riccardo wasn't standing there, being watchful and listening. She knew he was doing all of those. What she did not understand was why Elma had started to shake under her weight. "We were worried sick about you, honey."

"Of course, you were."

"But then, we were going to ring the cops—"