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“Think about the location filming, kiddo. It’ll be great when he’s out at meetings. Tons of new scenery.”
She nodded and set her drink down. Then, Sandra took Tonya’s hands in her own. “As long as you’re okay with everything. I wouldn’t even have this job if it wasn’t for you.”
“Honey, I don’t need the intercontinental hassle,” she finished, tossing her long, blond hair over her shoulders.
“Well, then,” Sandra said, bringing her can up to clink against her friend’s. “Here’s to new European adventures.”
“And here’s to Prince Charming.”
She frowned. “Huh?”
“The Big Boss? No one knows much about him, but you’ll be there with him as his valet and His Girl Friday. I’m not saying you’re looking for a sugar daddy.”
“I am not that type of girl,” Sandra said, rolling her eyes.
“No, but you’ve mostly had a few losers and not gotten far with any of them since Zane. Maybe a hot fling with an eligible billionaire is exactly what you need.”
“What I need is to stay employed.” And save up enough to produce my first film. “We’ll leave the Julia Roberts moments to other girls.”
“Maybe, but maybe he’ll surprise you.”
Sandra sighed and rubbed at her temples. The last time she’d been surprised had been that toe-curling, scorching hot night with Xavier. He’d taken care of all her needs for over an hour, and then they’d parted ways, never to see each other again. It wasn’t his fault. She hadn’t given him her contact info, and he didn’t have any social media accounts.
It had been the best sexual encounter of her life. The few blind dates she’d agreed to with Tonya’s help since then had been ice cold by comparison.
“I don’t believe in surprises, Tonya. Not anymore.”
***
She arrived the next day bright and early at seven in the morning to help with straightening up Mr. Villalobos’s private penthouse and to serve as his direct right hand in packing for the Spain trip. Estelle had given her the keys the day before when they’d gone over the rules for the apartment and for serving the Big Boss (as Tonya loved to call him) directly. Estelle coached her on all the best methods to employ to remain “useful but unseen.” She’d been prepped for any situation.
Or at least she thought she had been.
The one thing she hadn’t expected to do was walk into the middle of World War III.
World War III with naked people.
“I can’t believe you!” a woman with shiny platinum blond hair and her clothes in her right hand screamed from across the living room.
Only her quick reflexes honed with the rowdier customers at Atlantis helped Sandra to duck the glass hurled across the room. She squatted fast and then hurried to the left as quickly as she could before the pissed-off woman had a chance to take aim again. As she’d suspected, the mystery woman hurled a spare pillow from off the floor. This time it arched across to the sofa on the far right of the living room and was caught by a guy just blinking awake.
A guy who somehow seemed familiar.
He stood up and was at least wearing boxers. Running a hand through his tousled, overly long hair, he kept his attention and his profile turned to his upset lover. Sandra did as she was trained and scurried to the kitch
en (cursing the open-floor plan the whole way) and started washing the used tumblers in the sink.
“Lisette. I don’t know what’s going on. I was just getting dressed and you stormed out of the shower like a bat out of hell. Would you like to explain what’s going on, using your inside voice?”
She narrowed her eyes at him even as her pale skin went a blotchy red. “I found your phone on your nightstand. You had six texts just lighting up the screen today at three in the morning. Some ho named Carrie was trying to get in contact with you.”
The man stiffened.
Ooh caught. This might just get even more interesting. Sandra pushed that thought away and reached for a plate with a few bites of steak still on it that she scraped off into the disposal. I’m not here. I’m the ghost here. The valet. I so need this job.
“I can explain,” the man said, starting across the room toward the naked Lisette.
“No, Xavier. I don’t think you can explain anything. I think what you’re saying is that we’re not special.”
