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 jump out of the taxi and run across the street without bothering to look around. I wonder what would be worse, screwing up a million euro deal or getting hit by a car? That is what I call a tough choice. Both options seem pretty nasty and damn possible. The few angry honks, accompanied by a tirade of ripe curses, show that my supermodel-corporate-shark looks do not impress the agitated drivers. Lulu claims the right appearance can get you out of the shittiest situation. I am not so convinced.
What was wrong with me last night? I did not even cast a glance at the final draft of the creative project, not to mention the preliminary shooting schedule and the price quote. The shrewd agent shoved the thick file in my hand at the very end of the business dinner exactly because he wanted me to have as little time as possible for inspection and analysis. It was a mess in my head from the moment my new assistant appeared, and it went on throughout the whole day.
For some reason, I thought I would still have the rest of the evening to read it and eventually build a strategy after my little improvised date with Lucia. That was before we drank the two bottles of Colli Albani Rosso*, and I woke up with Lulu's ass all over my face. Sex will ruin my life. This is the tragic, despicable truth.
*Colli Albani Rosso - a popular brand of red wine from the region of Lazio, Central Italy
I rush into the office building and start banging on the elevator button with a trembling hand. This is my worst nightmare, showing up to the most important meeting of my career completely unprepared and terribly late. Thank goodness, people have already gone to work and the shopping mall is still closed. The doors slide open in a few seconds. I press my throbbing forehead to the soothing coolness of the mirror wall and put my best efforts into trying to recall every single word that was said at the restaurant. Unfortunately, I am hangover, severely sleep deprived, and it does not help my short-term memory at all. In other words, I do not remember shit.
All I can recall is the agent yelling, "Questo ragazzo è un vero fenomeno (The boy is a real sensation). If you do not sign him up for your campaign, Gucci are waiting. They will steal him from under your nose. He is a top model, not someone looking for a job."
I kept nodding in response and paid no attention to all the crap that was steadily flowing out of the guy's mouth with no prospects of stopping. I also lied about having seen the boy's commercial, which he had shot for our main competitor brand the year before. I actually have no idea who this model is or what he looks like. I do not need a celebrity to sell a bunch of skin care products in a cruise ship chain of luxury stores. Or do I? It was The Big A who insisted on working with this particular agency. He said they were the best. One thing became crystal clear during last night's meeting, though. They are the best at manipulating you into spending a fortune on things you can do without.
Whatever the final offer is, I am determined to decline it. The problem is how to do it while sounding like a professional and well-informed person without actually being one. The other, even trickier question, is how to convince The Big A that I am right, preferably without getting fired for acting directly against his orders.
With this heavy cloud inside my head, I pop out of the cabin only to collide head-on with my startled assistant. He lets out a squeak and freezes in place, gazing at me with his big, mesmerizingly blue eyes. Skylar Jones. Who would have believed this? The prettiest boy... Jason, focus! I grab him by the lapels. "Did you receive a big, red folder of documents yesterday towards the end of the work day? The agent said a copy was sent to my office. Are the people from 'New Vision' here?"
Sky only mumbles, "Huh?"
His eyes go even wider. He looks like a cute, bewildered fish... a damn sexy fish. His lips are pursed in a thin line... They can not really form a thin line because lips that are this plump wouldn't... Oh, my dearest God! Jason! Focus! Please!
"Skylar, listen to me carefully," I say as calmly as I can. "This is very important. I can't even stress enough how important it is. A big, red file folder. There is a logo on the cover. It says 'New Vision'. Did the courier bring it to my office?"
"Yes," he gasps.
"All right. Excellent." I loosen the grip on his jacket, fighting the urge to pull him closer. "Now, here is the next question. Did you read it?"
"I... Umm... I thought..." Hesitation and uneasiness are written all over his face. He is obviously trying to figure out the response that will please me.
"Sky, there is no right or wrong answer." I take a deep breath to calm myself and soothingly smile at him. "I just need to know whether you are aware of the information."
"Yes," he answers more confidently this time. "You said I had to keep up with everything about the new project, so I carefully studied the data and made a summary of the main points."
"Grazie a Dio (Thank God)! Sky, you are saving my ass." I plaster two ardent kisses on both his cheeks, making him turn crimson. "Ottimo!Bravissimo! (Well done! Good work!) Thank you!"
"You are welcome," he mutters, trying to flatten his wrinkled lapels. "I was just doing my job. But please, do not scare the shit out of me next time. You look fabulous, by the way. Is this a Prada jacket? Very cool."
"Yeah, yeah, Prada. Who cares. Go grab the summary so I can read it." I push him towards the conference room. "You come straight here then, and we go into the meeting. You will do the talking until I get acquainted with the numbers. We'll say you are my deputy, and I have given you full authorizations."
"No!" Skylar digs his heels in. His face goes a few shades paler. I love how his fair skin changes color in seconds like an adorable chameleon. "Are you crazy? This is my second day. I can't do this. Fathe... Cough! Signior De Angelis will fire us both for this."
"Chill. Everything is going to be fine." I wrap an arm around his shoulders to keep him moving. The Big A won't be attending the meeting. Just give evasive answers and do not agree to anything until I join the conversation. If you don't know what to say, start coughing, drink water, say it's stuffy, go open the window and so on."
"But I am just a secretary," he protests.
"Not anymore." I grin at his shocked expression. "Here is the fastest way to grow in your career, Mr. Jones. You just need to get your hands on important information that no one else has. Congratulations on your one-day assignment as Deputy Marketing Manager."
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A/N
Hello, at the end of Chapter 12.
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