Skylar Jones was adopted into an old Italian aristocratic family when he was ten. His life goes under the strict control of his stepfather, Count Massimiliano De Angelis. Sky is a good boy and obeys the rules. One thing only he keeps to himself, his...
I hang up and do the one thing that gives me comfort in any difficult situation without fail. I scroll to the gallery and tap on the only picture of Jason I have. Heart-rending, I know. I have not seen the guy in two years. He did not see me for five whole years before that. And yet, this is my sole source of consolation. So, if you had any doubts up until now, this should have finally convinced you that I have hit rock bottom.
I still remember it as if it happened yesterday. The last bender to celebrate graduation. It was past midnight. Everyone was roaring drunk. The party had reached its climax. I was at the end of my tether, sprawled on a chaise longue outside, breathing deeply in the cool night air in hopes to stop the sudden onset of nausea. My head was aching. I was trying to gather enough energy to get out of there, wearily watching my fellow students enthusiastically scatter around wrinkled pieces of clothing, preparing to jump into the pool among screams and deafening rock beat.
The thought that I had to be at work in four hours was not giving me peace. I must have been really stupid. Why was I depriving myself of sleep over something that gave me little to no pleasure? I rubbed my face in annoyance before casting one final glance at the euphoric crowd.
And there was the answer to my question. He was right in front of me, with his shirt unbuttoned and hands carelessly shoved in his pockets. Our eyes met. He smiled. I had no idea where that courage came from, but I hesitantly took out my phone. Jason was just standing there and gazing at me with that wide, dazzling grin on his face. He stuck his tongue out at me, and I snapped the picture a second before someone pushed him into the water.
That was it. The only time Jason Marchetti acknowledged my existence. I ran out into the street to catch a taxi and never saw him again.
The phone starts buzzing in my hand, bringing me abruptly back to the reality of the present day. My fears are justified this time. It is dad.
"Ma cosa sta succedendo (What's going on)? Skylar, where are you? Va tutto bene (Is everything ok)?" For a brief moment, I think I hear concern in his voice. However, he is quick to prove me wrong. "You aren't getting late, are you? What is taking you so long? I just called Giulia. She informed me you were nowhere to be seen. Why did I give you the penthouse? You literally live two flights of stairs from the office. Hurry up!"
I have no chance to say a word in response. I am not expected to do it either, so I push the phone back into my pocket and lean heavily on the reception desk where I have safely arrived just on time.
"Skyyy! I'm so happy to see you." Giulia beams at me, instantly improving my gloomy mood. "Mamma mia! Look at you. You are all grown up. So handsome. How could you not come to see me for so long? Promise me we'll catch up later. How was Austria? What about Bologna? Madonna santa! My lovely boy."
The amiable woman has been working as a receptionist on the executive floor for at least twenty years. My parents often left me with her as a child during my father's board meetings, and mom's shopping sprees at the mall ten floors below. I did not mind. It was fun. Giulia secretly helped me with homework and always kept some maritozzi for me (cream buns, typical Roman dessert). I love her. She looks around cautiously, as no one else should know who I am, and gives me a quick hug, winking at me.
"Mi dispiace, Giuls (I am sorry, Giuls)!" I smile apologetically, squeezing her hand. "I had a lot on my mind, but now that I'm back, things will change. How about a dinner this Friday?"
"Sure! Sure! That would be fantastic." She leans closer to my ear and lowers her voice. "The new marketing director is quite an impressive young man. I have a feeling you two will get along pretty well. I heard he studied in Vienna, just like you."
"Oh, really?" I feel the cold shiver running down my spine. That is all I fucking needed, be the secretary of a college mate. My self-esteem will no doubt shoot straight up to the moon. There are many specialties, I reassure myself. We probably have nothing in common and have never met at all.
"Come on!" Giulia is pushing me towards the nearest conference room. "Have a seat. They'll be here any minute. I'll bring coffee and water. Good luck, love!"
I flop in a huge, leather chair with my back to the half-open door and try to even my breathing. My father is obviously determined to make my life as miserable as possible. There is no way he is oblivious of all the distress he is causing me. Why? Why does he have to do this to me?
"Signor De Angelis, please reconsider. I am quite certain. I really do not need any help, sir." It is a raspy male voice that makes all the blood drain from my face. "I am not that important to be assigned a personal assistant. I've got my team. It is perfectly enough. We can discuss it again when we launch the new cosmetics brand, but until then, I prefer to work alone. Have I ever disappointed you, sir?"
I am totally fucked up. That voice can never be mistaken. My new boss is Jason Marchetti. To top it all, he does not want me. I also might be having a heart attack right at this moment.
Of all the shit that has ever happened to me, this must be the worst.
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Homemade MARITOZZO, Italian bread stuffed with whipped cream
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A/N
Hello, at the end of Chapter 3.
Thank you for supporting my new story!
Did you expect this turn of events? 😏
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Is he trying to make his life miserable on purpose?
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