Eros Ramazzotti
“Drinking the good stuff today, huh?” Edgar Cayce, my best friend barges into my office saying..
“What can I say I’m in a good mood.”I reply chuckling..
“Damn, is that today? I forgot to check my calendar,” he jokes. “I didn’t realize today was one of the two days a year you’re in a good mood.”
“You little shit.”I curse out at him playfully
He laughs and raises the glass. “Thanks, but I’d rather just drink this delicious booze.”
We chat for a little while about this and that, then go over a few of the points raised during the previous board meeting. Basically, we’re just killing some time. We’ve got a lunch reservation in about thirty minutes, but even with the traffic that’s a constant here, it should still only take us about ten minutes to get there. Fifteen at most.
The door to my office opens again and a nerdy yet young old blonde steps in. She looks at me with wide, wary eyes and arms full of paperwork. She approaches my desk like a terrified gazelle approaching a watering hole, waiting for the lion to leap out of the bushes and tear its throat out. Silently, she sets the stack of papers down and then turns to leave.
“Sorry,” I stop her. “But who are you?”
She turns back, trying to muster up a smile. “Athena I’m your new Personal Assistant, Mr. Ramazzotti,” she says, her voice trembling. “Alice said it was fine to just bring these in and drop them off.”
I look at Edgar who is suppressing a smile, then lean to the right, trying to catch Alice’s eye through the wall of windows that make up the front of my office. But my secretary is busy on the phone and isn’t looking my way. I sit up and look at the young woman again.
“You said you’re my PA?”
She nods. “Yes, sir.”
“Since when?”
“About two weeks now. You personally hired me right on the spot,” she explains.
I look at Edgar again, totally confused. “What happened to the brunette girl? Mary or Michelle, I think?”
Edgar grins. “Her name was Michelle” he tells me. “And you fired her about two weeks ago.”
my chair. “Weird. Tot
estly don’t recall firing my last personal assistant or hiring the new one. I suppose I must have, given
of papers she dropped
be signed, s
thena w
s. “Yes
me sir. Please lossen up I don't bite,” I tell her. “It anno
my dear really don’t want to anno
e got bitten and now she's go
ith the jokes"I say arc
Yes, si –” she hesitates. “W
my eyebrows at her. “Th
e I’m about to go to lunch. Ever,” I growl and wave dismissively at t
er and smiles. “It’
g for all the world lik
ir– Eros,” she recovers.
sn’t,” I snap. “Y
she turns and flees my office. I lean back in my chair and sigh,
single,” Edgar chuckles. “What
now I don’t like leaving u
be you can give the
She’s still gainfully
ills, Eros. You can be a brute sometimes, yo
eople skills are fine,” I tell him. “What we need to work
fferent definitions
finger and la
of my scotch. Edgar takes a slow sip of hi
t?” I
r than some of these women on the Upper East
. “What can I say? Good
if you’re
ith a laugh. “Come on; I’m s