Chapter 12 - The Job Hannah Was Afraid to Accept|
The following spring, Luca asked me to come to his study.
I arrived carrying a tray of coffee.
He smiled when he saw it.
“Hannah, you don't have to bring anything.”
I looked down.
“Habit, sir.”
He laughed softly.
“Sit.”
I hesitated.
Then lowered myself into the chair opposite his desk.
He looked toward a folder resting beside his laptop.
“I wanted to ask you something.”
My stomach tightened.
For a moment, I wondered whether my job was changing.
Or disappearing.
Old fears didn't vanish simply because the person who'd threatened you was gone.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
Luca's expression softened.
“No.”
He paused.
“Actually, something good.”
I looked up.
He opened the folder.
Inside were plans for a new community program.
The Catherine Moretti Family Care Initiative.
It would provide practical support to families caring for relatives with serious illnesses.
Transportation assistance.
Caregiver education.
Referrals to qualified professionals.
And help navigating financial resources.
I stared at the documents.
“It's beautiful.”
Luca smiled.
“Catherine started something similar before she died.”
My expression softened.
“She wanted families to feel less alone.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“Now Sofia wants to help finish what she began.”
I looked toward the folder.
“What does this have to do with me?”
Luca studied my face.
Then smiled.
“We're hiring a community outreach coordinator.”
My breath caught.
“Me?”
He nodded.
“You understand what families go through when they're balancing work, bills, and someone they love who needs care.”
I looked down.
“My mother needed help after surgery.”
“I know.”
He continued.
“And you understand how easily people can be made to feel powerless.”
My throat tightened.
For a moment, I thought of Teresa.
Her trembling hands.
Her navy coat.
The way she'd whispered, Don't leave me alone.
“I don't have a degree in social work,” I said.
“You wouldn't be providing clinical services.”
Luca nodded toward the folder.
“The position is administrative and community-focused. Qualified professionals would handle specialized care.”
I swallowed.
“And I'd be trained?”
“Yes.”
He paused.
“But I want something clear.”
I looked up.
“You'd interview through an independent hiring committee.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I don't want you feeling obligated to me.”
My eyes filled.
He continued.
“If you don't want the role, that's fine. If you want to stay here, we can discuss that too.”
His expression softened.
“It's your decision.”
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Vanessa had spent months making sure I understood how little power I had.
One wrong word.
One act of kindness.
One disagreement.
And she'd threaten the paycheck that helped keep my mother comfortable.
Now Luca was offering me something I'd almost forgotten existed.
A choice.
“Can I think about it?” I whispered.
“Of course.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
He smiled.
“And Hannah?”
“Yes?”
“Whatever you decide, I meant what I said before.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Vanessa had no right to threaten your job.”
My throat tightened.
“Thank you, sir.”
He shook his head gently.
“Luca.”
I blinked.
He smiled.
“You can call me Luca.”
I laughed nervously.
“That might take some getting used to.”
“I have time.”
Something warm moved through my chest.
I left the study carrying the folder.
And for the first time in months, I felt excited about my future instead of frightened of losing it.
Two weeks later, I interviewed.
I was nervous.
My hands shook.
I stumbled over several questions.
But when the committee asked why I wanted the job, I knew exactly what to say.
“Because I've watched people who need help become embarrassed to ask for it.”
The room grew quiet.
I continued.
“I know what it's like to work while worrying about someone at home.”
My voice strengthened.
“And I know how much it matters when someone treats you with dignity instead of pity.”
A week later, I received the offer.
Full-time.
Benefits.
Training.
A salary that made me stare at the letter three times.
I called my mother first.
She cried.
Then I called Teresa.
She cried too.
Then she insisted on throwing a small dinner.
Luca congratulated me that evening.
He looked genuinely proud.
Not because he'd given me something.
Because I'd earned it.
Later, as we walked toward the garden, he asked whether I'd like to have coffee with him.
Not as his employee.
Not as Teresa's helper.
Just as Hannah.
My heart began racing.
I looked up.
“Are you asking me on a date?”
He smiled.
“I'm trying to.”
I laughed softly.
Then whispered:
May you like
“Yes, Luca.”
And for the first time, the man Chicago feared looked completely nervous about a woman's answer.
