Me: That’s real cute. Kind of looks like you,too.
Antonio: I can’t sleep so I thought I’d see if you’re having trouble sleepingtoo.
Me: I’m too excited tosleep.
Antonio: I’m happy you’re excited. But go to sleep, Daniella Belle. I’ll pick you up at 5 a.m. sharp. Sweetdreams.
Me: Sweetdreams.
* * *
Ididit.
Slept right through my fucking alarm—awakened only by the grace of Antonio sending me a courteous text to tell me he’s on his way to myhouse.
I leapt out of bed, ran into the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and threw my hair in what is supposed to be a ponytail, before I slipped into a bra and panty, blue skinny jeans, and a blackCraveMeT-shirt I found on sale in a little boutique on RodeoDrive.
There was no time at all for mascara, but I did manage to dab on some bright pink lip gloss before the doorbellrang.
And now I’m standing here, judging my reflection in the mirror, before I turn thedoorknob.
“Nice shirt. That is part of a new casual line we are testing. It looks amazing on you. You all set?” a slammin’ Antonio says when I swing the dooropen.
I mean why does the man have to look sogood?
“Yep. I just need help with my bags.” He looks at all three suitcases and laughs. “Are youmovingtoMilan?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” I cheekilyretort.
“I’m getting used to your sarcasm, Miss PersonalAssistant.”
“Great. Then I’ll be sure to toss more your way, every chance Iget.”
Impressive biceps in both arms swell prominently as he lifts two of the suitcases. “I didn’t say I enjoyit.”
“Then why are yousmiling?”
Our eyes briefly lock as he licks his lips when he slowly walks past me. A subtle hint of his cologne sends chills up and down my spine. “Miss Belle, we need to hurry. And grab a light jacket. It’s a little brisk outside. Oh, and a pair ofsunglasses.”
“Sunglasses?”
“Uh, yeah,” he says, setting down the suitcases outside. “TMZ loves to hang out at the airport. Dark sunglasses will shield your face and spare you a media frenzy.” I watch his lips transform into a coquettish smirk. “Unless, of course, you’re into that sort ofthing.”
Uh,no.
“I have sunglasses in my purse,” Iretort.
Antonio loads my suitcases into the backseat of his car as I grab a jacket and lock up thehouse.
And before I know it, he speeds off toward Los Angeles InternationalAirport.
Milan…here wecome.
