Personal assistant

Smile, darling

I sucked in air through my teeth as she took the fifth corner in a row at what felt like sonic speed. Instead of kicking up a fuss, I grabbed the handle above the window, stealing a quick sideways look at her. 

Jaw was tight, lips pressed together, thoughtful frown creasing her brow. I really wasn't comfortable anymore, the businesswoman seemed elsewhere, and I said her name to try and gain some attention.

"If you don't want to talk, I won't push you, but please stop driving like this, it's making me nervous."

I kept my tone polite and made sure not to sound judgemental. Her foot pressed lightly on the brake pedal as she adhered to my enquiry, mumbling a stark 'sorry.'

I released my fingers from the handle, hoping it hinted to her that I felt at ease once more. She stuck to her unspoken promise the whole way, thank goodness it wasn't long, the silence was so deafening. I put the blazer on properly once I was outside, and walked slightly behind her to avoid conversation. 

We shortly arrived at a large set of steps, and she nodded towards them without a word, beginning to climb them swiftly. I was left behind quite quickly, walking up stairs in heels wasn't that challenging for me, but it had begun to drizzle lightly and I didn't want to slip. She had boot heels as opposed to my stilettos, and I wished I'd worn the same as I watched her get further and further away from me. She reached the midpoint, and turned back towards me, stopping her ascent which surprised me, I half expected her to meet me inside the restaurant at the pace she was climbing at. 

Her hair buffeted in the light breeze as raindrops slowly started to speckle her light grey jacket with a darker grey mottling. I reached her finally, expecting her to continue climbing, but she didn't. When I looked over to her in question, she was staring straight ahead and her elbow was pushed away from her side, a clear gesture for me to take her arm. 

Despite her attitude mix up, this move was undeniably caring and I took it gratefully, walking beside her for the last steps. Her hands stayed in her pockets but she clamped my hand underneath her upper arm against her body protectively, and I smiled to myself.

We reached the top, a large orange and yellow glow radiating from the building in front of us. The drizzle threatened to turn to a downpour, and she bustled me inside before her, nearly falling over me in the process. I couldn't help it, and let out an explosive giggle as she rapidly placed two hands on my waistline to avoid completely bowling me over. I was nervous to look back at her, but was met with a pleasant side smile. She shared my amusement, and I felt the tension escape outside the door along with the harsh winds as we refused to look away from each other.

"Sofia!"

A jovial looking man rushed over and shook her hand with utter excitement. Again, my sense of humour was tickled and I laughed at his enthusiasm which was somehow adorable.

He turned to me, moustache bristling as he smiled graciously and took my hand to kiss.

"And who is this lovely lady?"

"Frederico, this is my assistant Lana."

For a second, it sounded as if she were proud to show me off to this man, and I blushed under all the attention.

"Come and sit! I will take your order as soon as you are ready."

We followed him through the neatly set tables, chatter amongst others was loud and inviting, not to mention the food smelt incredible.

He pulled out my chair for me, and I thanked him as I sat down opposite Sofia, who passed me a menu.

"I think we'll have a bottle of Moët Rosé to drink please Rico," she looked quickly at me for conformation and I nodded in agreement. She couldn't have made a better choice.

"Right away prediletto," he bowed as he returned to the kitchens, and Sofia raised an eyebrow as she clocked how often the man's eyes were on me.

I paid no attention and surveyed the menu, I was starving. Everything sounded so delicious I didn't know where to start. After some time and some helpful suggestions from Sofia, I decided on chicken Alfredo, and placed the menu down beside me just in time for Frederico to come over with the glasses. He poured Fia's first, and then mine, making a point to catch my eye and smirk as he did so.

I noted her struggling not to laugh, and she looked down, clamping her lips together before taking a sip of rosé. She appeared to be trying to gauge my reaction to his advances, so I made sure to be extra polite, although I could feel my cheeks beginning to darken again under her relentless stare. He placed the bottle in the ice bucket next to us, took our orders and left to tend to another table.

"I think you have an admirer," she tittered, placing her glass back on the table.

"Oh, what..." I replied in a mocking tone.

"Jealous?" I asked boldly, taking a sip from my own glass as she fiddled with the base, a smirk forming on her expression.

"I don't think I have anything to worry about," she stated matter of factly, looking towards the kitchen in amusement.

"Whatever do you mean? Middle aged men sporting a small rodent on their upper lip happen to be my type, I'll have you know."

She tried not to, but she couldn't help let a chuckle loose as she turned back towards me, shaking her head.

"Well our relationship is professional, you can do what you like with him I suppose," she challenged, and I failed to hold in a grimace.

"I'll pass, I prefer what's in front of me."

Her eyes narrowed, and her lips parted slightly. Her expression seemed hungry, but it didn't appear to be for the food. I was just glad that her mood had relaxed up so quickly, I was preparing myself for it to be awkward all night.

"Ladies, your orders have been bumped to the top of the queue, enjoy," Frederico placed down two plates of dreamy looking dinners in front of us, and my mouth watered at the aromatic scent of thyme and creamy chicken. 

We thanked him graciously, but I couldn't hold eye contact with him after Sofia pointed out his interest in me. She noticed, grinning as she picked up her fork.

"Sorridi tesoro," the mischievous woman stated, and I threw her a wry look in response before digging into my food.

Christ, the Italian rolled off her tongue in the most fluid way. I watched the parmesan melt into my pasta, and not even that could match the satisfaction her voice elicited in that moment.