Page 4 of Play of Love
Chapter 2
Amy
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Ipulled up in front of Mr. Mancini’s beach house in Malibu at eleven. Located on the oceanfront, it offered a panoramic view of the ocean and sandy beach.
I got out of my car and took a moment to admire it.
Now this was the ultimate definition of modern and creative, eye catching for anyone with a taste for design.
The house was truly beautiful and impressive with its extraordinary geometric design and architecture. Fashionable shades of cream and burgundy adorned the concrete walls. It had a flat roof and a grand wooden door that fit perfectly with the glossy windows that were as tall as they were wide. Cedar beams ran over the front porch, adding more character and definition.
Amidst the manicured lawn, cascade of fantail palms, and assortment of exotic plants, it looked like a cut out from a holiday brochure. I’d read that this area was a celeb haven. I could definitely see why.
A bubble of excitement lifted within me and I couldn’t wait to see what was inside the house.
I wondered what he was going to be like. From the look of the house I could tell he had great taste and an interest in style. People like that tended to be outgoing and friendly, so maybe Zelda was wrong.
Maybe she was one of those women who were over dramatic and jumped to her own conclusions.
I stepped out of the way to allow a couple jogging with their two retrievers to go by. I then grabbed my purse and proceeded up the steps to the house and opted for ringing the bell as opposed to using the keys Zelda gave me to let myself in. I just thought it was the correct thing to do, especially for someone like him. I may have lived in a trailer park for a rough chunk of my life, but I was as much of a southern belle as any of those upper-class girls raised in wealth, with impeccable manners and the correct ways of etiquette.
Besides, if it were me, I didn’t think I’d be too happy if some stranger came into my house completely unannounced and uninvited. I wanted to start off on the right foot with him and didn’t plan to run off like the other PAs.
I wasn’t going to allow anyone to push me out of this job, either. Those other PAs might not have needed to be here like I did, maybe they were weak.
I waited patiently, straightened out my blazer, and rolled my beaded bracelets up my arms so they’d stop clinking every time I moved. After a few minutes I rang the bell again and continued to wait.
Fifteen minutes later I was still outside. Maybe he wasn’t in. I moved over to the window but couldn’t see anything because the curtains blocked out any view of the house’s interior. I waited another five minutes before I decided to use the keys, hoping that it would be okay.
As the door swung open the first thing that hit me was the strong, pungent stench of alcohol. The image of a cheap hangout came to mind as that damp, hadn’t-been-cleaned-everbeer smell filled my nostrils. Like the kind of place that would attract the likes of my father. The smell reminded me of him and discomfort filled my stomach at the recollection.
“Hello?” I called out, brushing the memory aside.
There was no answer. I ventured in farther and was greeted by a landmine of garbage in the living room. Pizza boxes, bottles of cider, and bottles of wine piled on top of each other. Packets of this and that, junk galore everywhere. The floor was covered and so were the sofas in the living room. What was worse was that there were dirty clothes mixed in with it. Men’s clothes and women’s underwear.
The sight took away from the beauty and tasteful design of the room. I didn’t bother to look too much for fear of what else I might see.
There was another stale smell that I suspected was rotten food. I was a clean person who was obsessed with organization and having my surroundings tidy. I also believed in clean eating and eating for optimum health. This room and everything around me were an abomination to me and everything I believed in.
A series of female giggles pierced the silence. I looked upstairs to where the sound resonated and saw two women in barely-there bikinis running down the steps. Behind them was Joshua Mancini himself wearing a pair of shorts and a black t-shirt. He was chasing the women.
I geared myself up to meet my new employer. Even if I was appalled at the state of the house, I had to make that first impression a good one.
As he got closer I saw that he was truly handsome, indeed, with his sleek muscles and untamed pride. What I saw online was totally drool worthy, but those images had nothing on the real-life Joshua Mancini who was six feet six and extremely well built with a ridged wall of a chest that bulged against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He was breathtaking to look at with his black, shiny, spiky hair, tanned skin, and piercing eyes with an unusual mix of blue and green.
Turquoise. That was the color. It was turquoise, like the sea in somewhere like the Caribbean. Not that I’d ever been, but I’d seen enough pictures.
He was the kind of man that made you want to stare, even against your will. I quickly adjusted myself and my focus. It would do me no good to go all girlie weak-kneed and turn into some babbling buffoon in front of him. I had to look professional.
He looked me over with appreciation as he made his descent down the stairs and stopped a few paces away from me , making me feel like a dwarf even in my heels that added an extra two inches to my mere five feet and four inches. The women joined him and giggled as they tried to fix each other’s hair.
“Good, the stripper’s here,” he said with a wide smile that revealed super-gorgeous dimples in his exotic high cheek bones. It took me a second or two to realize that he was referring to me.
“No, no I’m from the agency,” I replied quickly.
“Doll, you’re going to have to be more specific than that. What agency did you come from? There’s Kelly’s, Tina’s Angels, Bert’s Whore’s from Hell, but you don’t look like the girls he usually sends. And the list continues.” He was drunk. His words slurred and he smelled like wine and the beer that filled the house.
