Jonah’s eyes widen in absolute amusement the second he sees me strut into the expansive boardroom of Creative Solutions, Inc with Daniella by my side. I’m certain he recognizes her from the video TMZ showcased yesterday.

“My man, my man, my man,” he says, coming in strong for a man-hug. “I’m all ready to brainstorm themes for the The Fashion Show. I can’t believe it’s only weeks away.” He gives Daniella a congenial once-over and extends his hand to shake hers. “Hey there. I’m Jonah. You must be Daniella. Antonio’s new PA? I’ve heard loads about you.”

I launch critical glare at him. Fact is, he’s right. I haven’t stopped talking about Daniella since I laid eyes on her. But she doesn’t need to know that.

“All things good, I hope,” Daniella says with a grin.

She looks ravishing today, with a curve-hugging pant suit, sexy heels, and ribbons of her long hair streaming down her back. The two of us chit-chatted during the drive here, and I was able to unveil fragments of key information: she’s six years younger than I am, is from Texas, and is newly single, thanks to some dude who broke up with her yesterday, via text. Coward.

“Yep. All good things. Anyway, shall we begin?” Jonah looks at me with raised eyebrows. “We’ve got lots to accomplish in such little time.”

Time flies, and Jonah and I brainstorm for over an hour, even though I find it hard to concentrate with Daniella seated next to me—feeling as though I’m trapped in some sappy romantic comedy about a hunky guy drooling over a hot chick who won’t give him the time of day.

Maybe that’s what I find so annoyingly alluring about her: she doesn’t seem to give a damn.

“Hello? Earth to Antonio,” Jonah’s sharp tone cuts into my thoughts.

“Uh…sorry, what?” I grumble, tapping my pen on the tabletop.

“I said, what about an east meets west theme?” He looks as though he believes he’s struck gold.

But he hasn’t.

“Hell no,” I say unquestionably.

“Well, I’m all out of ideas then.” He tosses his pen onto his notepad and runs his fingers through his dark, curly hair. “You’ve turned down a beach theme, a mermaid theme, a bad girl theme, and now this. Dude. Need I remind you again we are only weeks away? Weeks, Antonio.”

Jonah’s ideas have been good. Just not good enough. CraveMe has been falling behind competitors at The Fashion Show, and I need this year’s theme to be freakin’ spectacular.

“Look Jonah,” I express, now pacing the black-and-white marble floor of the boardroom. “All of those ideas are great. But I need something different. Something spectacular. And definitely something the other guys like Rendezvous won’t be doing.” I stop pacing and turn to face Jonah. “CraveMe must stand out.”

Jonah smirks then looks pointedly at Daniella, who is feverishly scribbling away on the notepad. “What do you think? Have you any ideas?”

I interrupt, throwing my hands in the air. “Hey, now wait. I seriously doubt she’s even been to The Fashion Show. Besides that, she knows nothing about the brand, being it’s her first day and all. I don’t think she’s remotely qualified to offer any insight.”

And just as quickly as the insolent words fly out of my mouth I realize how they must have sounded.

Daniella stiffens and I can see a glimmer of hostility in her eyes as she glares at me.

Through pursed lips she mutters, “With all due respect, Mr. Michaels, perhaps part of the problem is that you’re quick to dismiss the scope of an idea simply based on your perceived notion. All of the themes you’ve eschewed can be made into something spectacular. You’ve just got to come down from your higher-than-thou pedestal and give the unknown a chance.” The seat scrapes from under her as she shoots up from her chair. She straightens her suit jacket. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’d like to visit the powder room.”

Jonah and I both follow Daniella with speculative eyes as she marches out of the boardroom.

Jonah’s mouth flies open. “Well, isn’t she the perfect dose of spunk you’ve been missing all this time?” He beams and I just want to punch him.

“I deserved it. I insulted her without meaning to. But, as seems her norm, she fired right back.”

“You do know she’s right? You can’t afford to be Arrogant Antonio right now. We’ve got a fashion show to put on and frankly we’ve got nothin’.”

I sit back down, lowering my head into my hands. “You’re right. Time is of the essence. I’ll try to keep an open mind and I’ll ask Daniella—”

“You’ll ask me what?” Daniella queries, as she walks past my seat and slides into hers, seemingly careful not to make eye contact with me.

“If you’ve got any ideas,” I offer, my voice low. “And I apologize for my rant. I’ll try to be less of a dick from now on. It’s something I’m working on.”

“Diligently, I hope?”

I flash a wry smile, and internally scoff at how relentless she is. She’s getting to me, in more ways than one.

“Okay, you two. Back to the task at hand,” Jonah says, walking over to a flip chart to make notes. He picks up a green marker and points it to Daniella. “Spill it. Your ideas.”

Her cheeks brighten as she bites on the tip of her pen. “Well, as Antonio so blatantly pointed out, I’ve never been to The Fashion Show in Milan.” She flashes me a side glance and scoots forward in her chair. “But I do know a tiny bit about fashion shows. I did, after all, work with the esteemed Lauren Blake, during Fashion Week in New York, a few years ago, while in design school.”

Wait…what? I thought she was just a nanny.

Jonah bites on his balled fist, his eyes animated. “Lauren Blake? She’s like a fucking fashion diva. And you worked with her? Props to you, my lady.”

Daniella nods. “Right. Anyway, I’d be happy—actually, honored—to share some ideas. But,” she looks at me sternly, “seeing as how I know nothing about the brand,” she shifts a more amiable glare back to Jonah, “I’ll need information. Footage from past events, a catalog filled with CraveMe designs, and the amount of time they’ve allotted for us at this fashion show—”

“We won the bid for thirty minutes on the runway,” I proudly interject.

“Congratulations. That’s an impressive amount of time.” She sets her pen down onto the table and folds her arms. “So, gentlemen, I’ll be able to have concrete ideas for you tomorrow morning. Provided I’m given the items mentioned.” She faces me again, this time armed with one raised eyebrow and a smug half-grin. “And just so you know, I own several pieces of CraveMe lingerie. In fact, I’m wearing some right now.”

Smoldering green eyes stay fixed on mine as if she’s waiting to see what affect her comment does to me.

And although I’m burning up inside, imagining how her body looks and feels cradled in some of my sultry lingerie designs, I’m keen on keeping that to myself.

“Well, then Daniella, you’ve got pretty reasonable demands, along with exquisite taste.” I look away, freeing myself from her glower, and adjust the collar on my shirt. “Jonah will provide a computer flash drive that contains footage of the last few years of The Fashion Show as well as the catalog—per your request.” I look to Jonah for confirmation.

“Oh, right. Of course. I’ll just grab those from my office—just give me a few minutes to gather it all. Can I get you two anything while you wait? Water? Coffee?”

“No thanks,” Daniella and I reply in unison.

Jonah excuses himself, leaving Daniella and me alone. The silence between the two of us is deafening. She sits, arms still folded, legs firmly crossed, with a purposeful gaze toward the wall.

“You’re angry.”

“Annoyed,” she clarifies.

“Are you always gonna be annoyed with me?”

“Are you always gonna rise to the occasion?”

“Without a doubt,” I say, a droll attempt at easing the tension.

She faces me, eyes gleaming, and a sugary smile finally escapes her presumably tenacious nature.

It’s then that I realize Jonah’s right: Daniella Belle is indeed what I’ve been missing this whole time.