She takes in a deep breath. “I have an organic passion for all things lingerie. So, in me, not only will you gain an efficiently loyal Personal Assistant, you’ll also gain someone who appreciates the significance of lingerie and its influential effect on someone’slife.”
My mouth falls open as I sit across from her, digesting what I deem to be the most culminatingwhy you should hire mepitch—ever. I’d be a fool if I didn’t give her a chance—little does she realize the job is alreadyhers.
But, for the sake of me carrying on with this…interview, I mustn’t give in socasually.
“And in your opinion”—I clear my throat—“just how does lingerie influence someone’slife?”
She tugs at her diamond-studded earlobe and squares her shoulders. “Lingerie is more than simple fabric we classify as an undergarment. Lingerie is a woman’s alterego.”
Damn, that’s actually good. So much that I may consider using that as the new tagline.CraveMe Lingerie—A Woman’s AlterEgo.
Domenico delivers a round pan of pizza and props it up between Daniella and me on the table. “Buon appetito,” he says, placing our Italian sodas down before disappearing to thekitchen.
“Ladies first. Dig in,” Icommand.
She hesitates at first, then leans in, lifts a hefty slice, and takes a bite. “Mmmm,” she says with a gratifying eyeroll.
“Best pizza in the 90210,” I say, grabbing a slice of myown.
We eat in silence at first, as I study the way she savors each bite of pizza, peeling off pepperoni slices, entrancingly cramming them into her mouth, one byone.
Then I dive straight back into interview mode—before my mind surges off into more slinkycontemplation.
“So, suppose I do decide to hire you. How will that affect your life as ananny?”
Her eyes flicker with perplexity. “Youhavedone your research. That’s good. And regarding Emma—she’s almost seventeen. She doesn’t need a nanny. I’m more like her older sister at this point. Stacy, my boss—Emma’s mom—is rooting for me to get this job. She gave me a letter of recommendation.” Daniella reaches for the envelope that’s now nestled underneath a pile of napkins. “Would you like to seeit?”
I shake my head. “There are a few things I need to point out about the position, and if afterward you feel you’re up for what being my PA entails, then I’ll move on to reviewing your résumé and coverletter.”
She lifts her brows, looking semi-amused. “Fair enough. Do tell all about what being your PAentails.”
Domenico interrupts, by removing the now empty pizza pan and offeringdessert.
We both readily decline as we sit across from one another, both giving the other a considerable once-over.
Daniella folds her arms, clearly waiting for me to enlightenher.
I lean back a little more comfortably in my chair. “You’ll be expected to be on call, available via phone—mostly text—in the event I need to get a hold of you outside of regular office hours. You’ll need to attend all meetings with me, taking copious notes, then summarizing them in a follow-up email. You’ll arrange all travel, meetings with clients, and converse with vendors and accountants, on my behalf when I’m not available.” I pause, to allow her a few seconds to digest what’s been said. “And of course, there’s the ever-so-exclusive Fashion Show and Lingerie Ball. In Milan. You’ll be expected to attend,” I finallyadd.
“Milan? As in, Italy?” Her eyesgleam.
I nod. “Yep. In two weeks. It’s an annual event.CraveMeis usually well-represented.” I lower my head, drifting into panic mode as the realization settles in.Two weeks. And I’m not the least bit prepared. Dottie always took care of planning whatCraveMedoes each year at the events. But with her gone and my birthday coming up, I’ve been unable to focus on putting anythingtogether.
“And byusually…youmean—”
“Dottie—my last PA—usually took care of it all. And she’s not here so I’ve…fallen a littlebehind.”
She slurps up the last bit of her soda then slightly tilts her head. “For the last five years, I’ve planned and organized every detail of my boss’s life, been on-call twenty-four hours, seven days a week, and have planned all of Emma’s parties—from holiday to her Sweet Sixteen—albeit I’ll admit none of those are as grandiose as I imagine the Fashion Show and Lingerie Ball to be, but still. The point is, Antonio”—she sits taller in her seat—“I’m your girl. And even though I can almost guarantee I’ll screw up now and then, through trial and error, I will eventually become your new and improvedDottie.”
I stroke my stubble-laced chin and lean in closer to her side of the table. “You’re hired, Miss Daniella Belle. And for the record, you had me with your tenacious snark. You are indeed, mygirl.”
