Not many people piss me off, but the bastard on the other end of my call just has.

Then, I see her catch my eye.

She looks different somehow. The change is difficult to explain.

Since I’m on the phone, I can’t concentrate on what she’s saying. I point to my mobile and mouth, Phone call.

Instantly, she brightens and gives me the thumbs up.

Maybe she heard me swear at my caller and thought I was swearing at her? Of course.

How rude of me. I’ll have to apologize to her when I finally piss this idiot off.

“I don’t care what you have to do. I don’t want those drug lords in our casino,” I growl and hang up.

By now, Sofia’s looking at her feet. She’s not wearing any shoes.

“I…” she starts, but I cut her off.

“Sorry, Pasticcio,” I say and move toward her with outstretched hands. She looks even more beautiful than last night. “I was not swearing at you earlier when I came into the kitchen.”

Relief seems to wash over her.

She would not make a very good poker player. Her face is an open book.

She’s obviously very fragile.

I lean in and kiss her on each cheek, twice to be sure. Without meaning to, I stay a little longer than necessary, bathing in her scent.

Her scent reminds me of a mixture of roses, vanille and sweet spices. Maybe it’s just because we’re in the kitchen. But it was a bewitching kind of smell.

My eyes roam over her body. She’s flaunting her sexy curves, the tight top and skirt leave very little to the imagination.

Already, I can see colors I’d be using to accentuate her cheekbones and those exquisite lips.

“And how are you this morning, my little cupcake?”

I bathe in the smile she gives me. If someone doesn’t throw me a lifeline, I fear I might drown.

Why is this woman on the look out for a job as an escort agent and why isn’t she in someone’s kitchen barefoot and pregnant?

Come to think of it, she’s in our kitchen, bare foot.

Wicked thoughts come to mind, and I shove them out of the way.

Seriously, where is a husband, partner, or at least boyfriend? She’s one hot angel, too hot to be single.

“Ehm,” she interrupts my thoughts. “Do you know…”

It’s at this very moment that Franco and Marco come in. They’re in deep discussion, and I wait for them to finish before I turn my attention back to the gorgeous Sofia.

I love how her name rolls off my tongue.

Sofia.

If memory serves me correctly, Sofia means wisdom.

“Now,” Franco says, interrupting my thoughts.

“I…” Sofia starts again but one energetic hand wave from my brother shuts her up.

“It’s time we talked about you, Sofia,” he starts, and I try to hide my big grin.

Suddenly, I feel all of six years old and about to be let loose in the candy store.

Sofia, however, looks anything but excited. I want to put my arm around her shoulder and tell her it’s all right.

“I think you told us you were on the way to a job interview,” Marco says.

Sofia nods. Her dark eyes widen and fill with tears.

Franco takes over. “You were going to apply for a job at an escort agency, right?”

Another nod. “Yes, I only just got to town,” Sofia says, voice shaky.

What’s happened to the confident girl of earlier?

“And I need a job to…you know… my boyfriend left me…and…” She stops. She’s about to cry.

“Mama mia,” Marco cries, echoing our sentiments. “Escort agency work is hard.”

Sofia shrugs. “I can work hard. I don’t have qualifications for anything else.”

Franco looks at Marco and me.

“You’re sure you want to work as an escort?” I press.

When our eyes meet, I can tell she’s anything but thrilled about the prospect. If I run into this ex-boyfriend prick, I swear I’ll punch his lights out, and I’m not even the short-tempered one in the family.

“I accept that.” Franco’s still in charge and obviously enjoying his moment.

Well, he should be in charge. He runs the escort agency of the family business.

“But not every girl is cut out to be one of those,” he continues.

Now she lets out a little wail.

It’s too fucking much for me to bear. We should just tell her.

“Come on, Franco. Get on with it,” I say.

“What I’m trying to say, Sofia...” Franco shoots me and Marco a look that says, Don’t you dare interrupt my speech. “We think you’d be wasted working in one of those places.”

“But I need a job.” Now the tears are running down her cheeks.

“Just tell her,” I urge.

I can’t help myself. I walk over to Sofia and put my arms around her.

“We think you’re pretty special, Sofia, so we don’t want to employ you in our agency. No. We want to employ you personally as our own escort.”

My eyes have been on her the whole time. She doesn’t seem to understand what Franco just told her.

I squeeze her shoulders.

“That’s right, Pasticcio, you’ll be working for the three of us.”

Slowly, realization spreads across her face.

She smiles.

“That’s if you think you can handle us,” Marco interrupts.

“But…” she starts and stops again.

“Told you,” Marco teases. “She isn’t up for it.”

Now Sofia pulls out of my embrace and straightens her back and shoulders.

“Excuse me?” She turns toward Marco. “I don’t think you know who you’re talking to.”

She punches him the chest, a playful gesture and one that Marco appreciates.

At first, Marco just stares at her, eyes wide open, then he starts grinning from ear to ear.

Looks like having Sofia around for good will bring a whole lot of new fun into our lives.