Dreaming Of… Italy. Alison Roberts

yes.” Before that morning, she hadn’t thought about being attacked in at least a year. All because she had friends who believed her. Talking, finding people who didn’t merely believe her but who’d hurt with her until the hurt was gone, had made her whole.

      But she was in the big city now, not in Starlight, Kentucky, at their tiny university. She had to make this job work. “I can tolerate Tucker Engle and his obnoxious guests for eight or so weeks. In fact, I’ll do more than tolerate them. I’ll be the best damned assistant he’s ever had. Then when his real assistant returns I’ll go to Accounting where I belong.”

      Eloise said, “That’s the spirit.”

      Laura Beth patted her hand. “How about if I reheat the leftover spaghetti?”

      “No thanks.” Vivi rose from the sofa. “I’m exhausted. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

      “Are you sure you’re okay?”

      “I’m fine. My past is behind me.” She forced a smile. “Plus, if tomorrow’s anything like today, I’ll need all the rest I can get.”

      After washing her face and changing into pajamas, she crawled into her twin bed beside Laura Beth’s, pulled out her cell phone and hit speed dial.

      “Hey, Mom.”

      “Vivi? What time is it?”

      “It’s around ten. Did I wake you?”

      “No, but if I don’t get out of bed, I’ll wake your father.” There was a quiet pause and the click of the closing of her mom’s bedroom door. “So what’s up? How was your first day at Inferno?”

      “Awful. I’m not working in Accounting. I’m the assistant to the CEO.”

      “Oh! That’s exciting!”

      Unexpected relief unknotted the tight muscles of her shoulders. If her mom thought this was exciting, then maybe it was. “Really? I should be happy?”

      “You’re working with the guy at the top. You should be taking advantage of the opportunity to make a good impression.”

      “He’s kind of a grouch.”

      “Most older men are.”

      “Actually, he’s not older.”

      “He isn’t?”

      “He’s kind of young.”

      Worry filled her mom’s voice. “How young?”

      “Thirty-ish.”

      “Thirty-ish? And he’s a CEO?”

      “He’s the owner of the company. Which is why he’s so bossy. I read online that some of his employees call him the Grim Reaper.”

      There was a silence. Then her mom said, “I don’t like this.”

      Drat. She should have realized her overprotective mother would be suspicious of any man under fifty. Since her episode with Cord, her parents distrusted every man who looked at her twice. Which was part of the reason she’d moved to New York. She needed some space.

      “I’m fine. I’m working for him, not dating him. Plus, his assistant will be back in a few weeks.”

      “A lot can happen in a few weeks.”

      “Including that I could prove myself to him like you said I should.”

      “I don’t know, Vivi. I suddenly got really bad vibes about this guy.”

      “They’re the wrong kind of vibes. Mr. Engle has zero interest in me. And all I want is to be able to do this job.”

      Her mom grudgingly mumbled, “You should be fine. Your grades were great.”

      “I know I can handle the work. I just need to know some of the etiquette.”

      Loraina filled her in on a few tips for answering the phone and not speaking unless asked a direct question, but she finished her remarks with, “You be careful with this guy.”

      As that warning came out of her mother’s mouth she winced, realizing what was coming next.

      “Your dad and I didn’t want you moving to the city. If you could be attacked in a small town by someone you’d known since high school...how the devil can you trust yourself to eight million strangers?”

      “I’ll be fine, Mom.”

      “It’s just that we worry.”

      “I know. But trust me. This guy isn’t even slightly attracted to me.”

      Her mother huffed out a breath. “You think. But you’re a pretty blonde—”

      “Who doesn’t have the right clothes or makeup or manners to attract a guy like him.” She laughed, remembering the way he liked stinky Maria purring up to him. “Seriously, Mom. I’m perfectly safe with him.”

      They ended the call, and she settled down on her pillow. Exhausted, she immediately fell asleep and didn’t stir until her alarm woke her the next morning.

      She showered, headed for her closet and stared at her clothes. She had three pairs of taupe, tan or beige trousers, one pair of dark brown, one pair of gray and one pair of black, as well as seven or eight mix-and-match tops and two summer sundresses that she saved for “good.”

      Her gaze rolled to her bedroom door. Across the hall was the queen of clothes. Eloise had everything from business suits to ball gowns. They were the same size. She could borrow a nice dress or a fancy blouse and probably fit better into Tucker Engle’s world—

      No, damn it. She refused to let some condescending socialite bully her into trying to be somebody she wasn’t. She was a simple girl. Someone who wanted to prove herself based on her skills and abilities, not her looks. And after her mother’s reminder that she should take advantage of this time to prove herself, she’d decided that’s how she’d endure these eight weeks. She’d prove herself with her work. Not dress like somebody she wasn’t.

      * * *

      When the elevator door outside Tucker’s office door opened, he glanced up and saw Olivia Prentiss entering. Today she wore gray trousers with a gray blazer and some kind of clunky sandals. He stifled a laugh. After the way Maria had treated her, he’d wondered if she’d change the way she dressed. He gave her credit for not buckling under to Maria’s insults. In fact, he gave her points for that. He hadn’t hired her to be pretty or fashionable. They had work to do.

      He hung up his phone and walked to the outer office. “Good morning, Miss Prentiss.”

      She slid her worn backpack to her chair. “Good morning.”

      Her soft voice told him she didn’t want to be here. If she stayed this unhappy, it was going to be a long eight weeks.

      He headed for his desk. “We have a busy day today.”

      She followed him. “Should I get a notebook?”

      “No.” He paused for a second then made up his mind. Working for him had its boring elements. But he also did some fun things. Maybe if he took her to his signing that morning, she’d see the value of being his assistant. “I need you to study certain files before we go to a meeting.”

      “We’re going out?”

      He fell to his chair. “Yes. I’m signing papers this morning to buy a controlling interest in a startup.”

      Her eyes lit. “Really?”

      A zing of pleasure ricocheted through him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who needed his employees to be daft with joy all the time. But he did love enthusiasm. And he had made her smile. Which was probably the reason for the zing. Her whole beautiful face lit when she smiled.

      “I don’t want any snags. So, just in case, I want you and Betsy’s laptop with me.”