Chapter 12 - Groundskeeper’s Pride and Steel Gates
By Thursday afternoon, the estate grounds hummed with a different kind of energy. The heavy iron front gates, which had remained locked against visitors during Vanessa’s final months, swung open smoothly to receive delivery trucks and landscape contractors. Down by the main garage, the sharp ring of a wrench against metal echoed across the gravel drive.
I walked down the winding stone path toward the garage, carrying a clipboard with the updated groundskeeping schedules. Sal was bent over the engine block of the black sedan, his gray hair catching the bright afternoon light. A smudge of motor oil streaked across his weathered cheek, and he looked entirely in his element.
"Afternoon, Emma," Sal called out without looking up, his wrench tightening a bolt with a satisfying click. "If you're here to tell me the fuel requisition has been approved, you can tell Luca I already ordered the heavy-duty oil filters from the supplier in town."
I smiled, leaning against the doorframe of the garage bay. "Actually, I’m here because Luca asked me to coordinate the new supply chain approvals. And yes, the oil filters are cleared."
Sal straightened up, wiping his hands on a blue shop rag with a contented grin. "Good. That engine has been begging for proper maintenance for two years. Under the old regime, every time I asked for quality parts, I was told the budget was tapped out." He tossed the rag onto a metal workbench and leaned against the fender. "How are things holding up in the main house? I hear the auditors are tearing through the filing cabinets."
"They are," I replied, stepping inside the cooler shade of the garage. "They found enough paper trails to keep the lawyers busy for months. But the atmosphere is... quieter. People aren't walking on eggshells anymore."
Sal’s expression softened, his eyes holding a gentle, paternal warmth as he looked toward the grand manor house rising in the distance. "Luca’s a good man, Emma. He inherited a lot of weight when his father passed, and for a long time, he thought protecting the family meant surrounding himself with high walls and polished illusions. What happened with Vanessa... it was a harsh lesson, but it cleared the air."
"He talks about you with a lot of respect, Sal," I said quietly.
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"I raised him after his old man passed, watched him build this company from the ground up," Sal said, his voice dropping into a reflective register. "A man can get lost in boardrooms and balance sheets. It takes someone grounded to remind him where home is." He picked up his wrench again, giving me a knowing nod. "And from where I’m standing, you’ve done a fine job of holding the compass."
I felt a warm flush rise to my cheeks, but before I could answer, the crunch of gravel signaled another visitor approaching the garage. Luca was walking down the path from the house, his dark suit jacket draped over one arm, coming to check on the progress.
