“Are there any tips or tricks you might suggest?” Sonya asked.
The woman paused and stared. Her expression said she didn’t believe Sonya would last a day let alone the week. “What you need to know about Romy Sartori is he doesn’t like deception. Don’t try to lie your way out of not giving him one hundred percent. It will go worse for you. If his secretary didn’t suddenly take maternity leave a month early, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
Sonya winced. In other words, her sorry behind wouldn’t have been anyone’s choice. His usual secretary would still be kid gloving him, and Sonya would be at home wondering how much farther she could stretch a dollar.
“Good to know,” she muttered and swallowed her irritation. This wasn’t the time to think about her pride.
Sonya sat at the desk assigned to her with the packet of information regarding her new job. Coffee for Romy started the checklist.
Jeez, how serious is he about coffee?
She checked the time and noted he should be there in twenty minutes. After she read through all the notes his secretary left, she checked the door to his office thinking she could glean something about the man maybe from personal pictures and art choices. Her plan was foiled by the fact that the door was locked. How could she check for faxes sent straight to him if the machine was in his office? Maybe the secretary had keys.
Searching the desk, she found a ring with a million keys on it. As soon as she brought them out, they slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. When she bent to grab them, her injured ankle wobbled and by some miraculous clumsy move, she kicked the keys under the desk.
“For real?” She grumbled and dropped to her knees. The run in her pantyhose snaked up her calf, creeping her out.
Keep it together, Sonya. You’re fine. If you stay behind this desk, no one will notice anyway.
“Where’s the girl that’s supposed to be here today?” a man barked.
Sonya jumped and hit her head on the desk. She winced and poked her head out. “Oh, good morning. Sorry, that’s me. I was picking something…”
Her voice wandered off when she looked into the Adonis’ eyes. Mamma Mia! No one told her Romy would be so hot. She had seen several pictures of him, but none did him justice. Romy Sartori, Italian businessman, had to be a little over six feet tall. His big shoulders and chest filled out the suit he wore to a T, and Sonya imagined he had muscles to make a woman reach out to touch even without permission.
Dark hair and blue eyes that were stormy with anger right about then made her want to pant, but she resisted. Instead, she climbed to her feet and offered him a bright smile. “I’m Sonya Davis. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Sartori. Is there anything—”
He snapped his fingers and held out his hand in a position as if to receive a cup. “Coffee.”
Rude much?
“Um, I have to make it really quick. My information says you don’t usually come in until—”
“I’m not in the mood for excuses! Get me my coffee now!” He stormed over to his office, unlocked the door, and slammed it behind him as he entered the room.
Her teeth clicked together, and irritation rolled up her spine. “Of course. Right away.”
He was already gone. She wouldn’t let his attitude get to her. Apparently, he’d been having a bad week. Her research indicated that of the three Sartori brothers, Romy was the nicest. This callousness coming from him might mean he was under a lot of stress, and it would soon end. On the other hand, the way he acted might be relative. Maybe they were all evil incarnate and Romy was a little less so. She had to make sure before she came c
lean with him.
She threw together a cup of coffee as quickly as she could and loaded the tray she carried it on with little buckets of creamer and packets of sugar. Just in case, she added a few sugar substitute choices and ran on her toes as fast as she dared back to Romy’s office.
“Come,” he growled at her knock.
“Your coffee, sir.”
He didn’t look up but reached for the cup. Sonya bit back a sigh and guided the cup into his hand. A slight grimace touched the handsome face, but he continued to focus on the sheets of paper before him.
“Wait,” she began.
He choked and slammed the coffee on the desk. Coffee spilled all over his hand, and a few drops splattered the sheets of paper.
“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” She ran to his side and whipped a napkin off the tray to mop his reddening skin. “That must hurt. I know just the thing that will—”
He smacked her hand away. “It’s fine. In fact it would have hurt had it been hot enough! Weren’t you told I like my coffee hot?”
She blinked at him. The stuff was as hot as the coffee maker created it to be.