Page 18 of Cinderella-ish
Chapter 8
Daniella
I’mfrozen.
Completely unable to step foot intoCraveMe’sdowntownheadquarters.
Nervous? Fuckyeah.
Heartracing.
Sweat glistening along myforehead.
Clumsy.
Okay, well, for the record,clumsyis just me on a normalday.
But think about it…just yesterday I was a live-in nanny—cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, and runningerrands.
And today, I’m officially the Personal Assistant to AntonioMichaels.
Stacy seemed giddy when I shared the news via text after I got back home last night—probably even a tad more excited than myself. She said I’m not to worry about leaving her house anytime soon. I still have a place to live, full house privileges andall.
Before going to bed, I ransacked my closet in search of suitablePAattire. Appearance equals confidence, and believe me, a potent dose of confidence is needed to boost myesteem.
This morning, I ultimately settled on a smart-looking pinstripe pant suit and my favorite pair of red, strappy high heels—I love heels just as much as I do lingerie. The two components belong together, like cocoa-dusted whipped cream and a fancycappuccino.
“Are you gonna just stand there…or are you planning to eventually go in?” Antonio’s soft hum buzzes in my ear and I instinctively jump. The word “fuck,” escapes my lips, and when I whirl around to face him, he lets out achuckle.
“The return of Miss Potty Mouth?” He playfully arches both brows. “Or perhaps it’s just when you’re aroundme?”
I shift, placing a hand on my hip. “Seems as though you have a subtle way of bringing out the potty mouth in me.” I lift my chin in defense and catch a hint of a smile tugging at hislips.
“Hmm. I see.” His shoulder grazes mine as he reaches to open the door to the office. “Opening the door is the first step. Now that I’ve done that for you, please, be my guest and step foot into your new role as Miss PersonalAssistant.”
He steps over to the door and, while holding it open, waves his hand, motioning me to walkin.
Sauntering past him, I get a generous whiff of hiscologne.
Soapy. Musky.Masculine.
And a mild hint ofarrogance.
But he’s undoubtedlyhot.
No wonder women flock to him. That is, at least according to what I read about him on theInternet.
“Normally I’d introduce you to the office team, but today’s Wednesday,” he says, gesturing for me tofollow.
He swipes a key card, unlocking the door that opens up to the long hallway leading up to his office. The same office I stormed out of yesterday, like a spoiled diva. I laugh internally at the thought of how I must have looked tohim.
“What’s the deal with Wednesday?” I say as we reach his officedoors.
“Most of the team works from home on Wednesdays. Including myself. But I forgot about that last night when I dropped you off at your house.” He opens the door. “Have a seat. I’ll gather your new hire paperwork and then show you to youroffice.”
I walk over, ease down onto one of the high-back velvet-lined chairs in front of his desk, and cross my legs. “So, it’s just the two of us here thismorning?”
He sits across from me, a large mahogany desk between us. “No. Hector, our IT guy is here. He opens up the office each day around seven. But he’s a like a hermit. You can meet him anotherday.”
