Amy rested her hands on her lap then brought them together over the silk fabric of her skirt.

She’d been sitting in the manager’s office at Orbit Consultancy for the last half an hour looking around and taking in the strange combination of décor. While it had quite an attractive floor-to-ceiling window, which faced the main road, she wasn’t sure what to make of the rest of the room and supposed that the designer must have been going for a…

Well that was just the thing. She wanted to say modern, but didn’t think that was quite correct so maybe original was a better choice of word to describe and interpret it.

It was the only explanation for the black-and-red-striped polka dot walls. And why anyone would put a lovely oil painting of the Trevi Fountain next to what looked like an African mask made of string cheese that dangled from the edges?

And the French windows. While the glossy white polish made them gleam, the wrought-iron flower baskets attached to either side were made to look like skeleton bones with roses peeking out of the gaps. On the baskets’ rims were a series of bright red miniature skulls running along in a row. She could see where the idea attempted to be imaginative and in line with that style that had emerged with skulls and bones mingling with flowers, but this here designer had done some mad weirdness that just ended up looking tacky. Tacky, and actually a little scary. It made her conjure up images of those movies where the characters ended up shipwrecked on an island and ran into a cannibal tribal community who displayed human skulls for trophies.

She thought the flower baskets were awful, but what caught her attention even more was the large oil painting to her left of one of those alien-like hairless cats. It had bright, bright yellow eyes that stared back at her and sat on a silky cream cushion in an armchair.

Amy grimaced at the sight and looked away as goosebumps prickled her skin.

The entire office needed redoing, but that was just her opinion. Perhaps the whole ensemble would look original and creative in another person’s view. She wouldn’t know who, but she guessed there would be some people who saw it that way.

Each to their own, she supposed.

Amy was a designer herself. Not an interior designer, but a fashion designer. Well…soon to be. Very soon. She had all the academic qualifications, having studied at The Fashion Institute of Technology in New York, and she had a wealth of experience from her placements at Chanel, Gucci, and Vogue. All she needed now was the job. Literally, the job.

She’d always dreamed of working for Christian Dior. She could have chosen to work with a smaller fashion house or brand, and would more than likely be well into designing by now, but Dior was where she wanted to be. She’d had her heart set on it.

Her first dose of inspiration came to her six-year-old self as she watched the Oscars ceremony on TV with her mother. She’d always remember how spectacular Michelle Pfeiffer looked as she walked across the red carpet, lighting it up with her bright yellow, strapless, Dior Couture dress with sequins splashed across the bodice. That was the moment, her moment, when Amy not only knew that she wanted to become a fashion designer but one that worked for Dior. She wanted to make dresses just like that one, and have celebrities parade them on the red carpet. That moment was a wakeup call for her. It was like her calling in life had been issued to her and she’d answered fiercely, fighting against any obstacles that came her way with unparalleled perseverance. She took it upon herself to gain all the knowledge she needed. There wasn’t anything about the fashion world or Dior that she didn’t know.

She’d had quite the journey since that memorable childhood day, and life hadn’t joked to issue her the rough stuff, but she kept the dream alive. She kept the dream alive even though each year it seemed to get further away from her.

Amy had been very fortunate with her education, which almost didn’t happen, and work so far. Despite her difficult upbringing she’d managed to stay on the path that should have led her to where she wanted to be, but life kept throwing obstacles at her. Like this recent thing with her mother.

It was a serious blow that had thrown her off track. Now she’d have to fight even harder to keep the dream alive in her mind as she took on this PA role. She’d been a PA in New York, but that was for Style Magazine. She’d worked with them for five years, three of which were spent working as a PA for Teddy Donovan, the editor in chief. When she took that job she’d been in two minds because it was different to what she was used to and didn’t exactly fit the designer route. However, a source from Dior had informed her that they valued people who had experience in supporting those with a decision-making capacity. So, having something like a PA role to the editor in chief of a top magazine on her résumé would be extremely appealing. The cherry on top was that Style Magazine was one of the favorites among designers. Right in league with the likes of Vogue and Runway magazine.

Amy had immersed herself in the role and it provided her with valuable skills she could add to herself. It was a job with a goal in sight, and Teddy had made sure that she was given all the opportunities to increase her knowledge of the industry and experience.

The PA role she was about to take on now would not be like that. Not even close.

This would be a regular, completely average PA role.

She straightened up in her chair as a slender, petite woman came in wearing a baby blue blouse Amy immediately recognized from Chanel’s latest spring collection. The black three-quarter-length trousers from the same collection complemented it fantastically like it would on one of the models on the runway displaying it. The woman was about mid-to-late fifties and had that elegance most people carried themselves with in L.A. Her sophisticated attire and neat updo of fiery red hair only served to enhance this.

“Amy, so sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Zelda.” Zelda put out her hand to shake Amy’s. Amy stood up and shook it with a cheerful smile that she hoped hid her nerves. She wasn’t nervous about doing the job itself. It was everything else. Mainly the significance she placed on it for what it meant to her.

“That’s okay. I’ve just been admiring your office.” That was a lie, but her nerves were making it a little difficult for her to focus on conversation starters.

“Admiring? Geez, you’re too nice.” Zelda narrowed her bright green eyes and laughed. “This is my husband’s atrocious attempt at ambiance. I’m not usually so accepting but it would hurt him to no end if I told him the truth.”

That explained it.

“Oh.” Amy offered a smile and sat back down when Zelda lowered into her chair neatly positioned behind the immaculate, well-organized desk before them.

“So, thank you for stopping by. We don’t usually do this sort of meeting but I had to warn you that Mr. Mancini is a very special case.” Zelda sat back in her chair and sighed with a slight edge. “A special case that has to be handled with…tact and care, if you will.”

Orbit Consultancy was a Sports PR company who represented the L.A. Gladiators, L.A.’s superstar football team.

Teddy had made this opportunity possible for her. Even though it wasn’t fashion related, it was a route, if she could hack it, to take care of her current family situation and still have a hand in accomplishing her dreams. L.A. was where she needed to be to continue her designer application for Dior and—fingers crossed—work for them. She’d planned to move here the minute she got the okay that her application had been successful. But more importantly, taking this job would provide the funds she desperately needed to take care of her mother.

When Teddy had told her about the job she started researching straightaway and did all her ground work on Mr. Mancini. From what she read she knew that the poor guy had been through a lot.

“I understand and I will definitely be sensitive to his needs,” Amy said with confidence. Minus the fashion side of things, being the PA to a star athlete couldn’t have been that different to being Teddy’s PA. Sure she imagined there would be some notable differences, but the basic processes to carry out the role had to be the same.

Joshua Mancini was the star linebacker for the Gladiators. He’d played football all his life. Tragedy had however struck last year at the start of the season when his mother and sister were killed in a car crash. Understandably, he was unable to continue with the season and was left devastated at the news. She’d read all about the incident, and other things about him, during the week that she’d spent here in the dreadful hovel of an apartment she’d managed to get on her budget.

Her job was to help him get ready for the upcoming season in six months. She imagined it to be the standard paperwork filing and sorting, organizing events, doing emails, and just offering support. Surely it was that simple.

“That’s exactly what I was worried about.” Zelda sighed again. “Amy, I’ll be honest with you.”

Amy leaned forward, her curiosity piquing from the tentative tone Zelda’s voice took on. She would have thought that her sensitivity was exactly what was needed here, given what had happened to the poor man. Amy just assumed that Mr. Mancini needed someone to get on with the work and handle his affairs.

Zelda brought her hands together and knitted her perfectly manicured fingers. “This job is going to be difficult.” She bit the inside of her lips. “Teddy is a dear friend of mine and he spoke very highly of you. His word alone was sufficient for me to offer you the job.” Zelda smiled.

Amy really appreciated that. It was the first job she’d ever had where she hadn’t gone through the standard interviews and assessments process. She’d been lucky to have met someone like Teddy. He’d always looked out for her and was the kind of person that helped because he cared and wanted you to do well. He’d helped her to no end when she worked for him and he was still helping her out now.

“However,” Zelda pulled in a breath. “That is the same reason why I wanted to meet with you today before you started. I wanted to give you a full brief and heads up. Mr. Mancini is like your standard athlete with the super ego.”

Oh, that was what this was about. It hadn’t escaped her that Joshua Mancini was incredibly handsome and a masterpiece of a man. She’d seen the pictures and she guessed Zelda was going to tell her that she’d have to deal with his fans and football groupies.

“I’m used to working with celebrities,” Amy stated with a confident nod. She’d worked with a number of them on photo shoots and other fashion-related events. She’d long since lost that starry-eyed craze and knew how to handle herself.

She assumed that was why this job came with such an attractive salary. A salary that only an idiot would refuse. The role was full time and permanent, but she’d get fifty thousand dollars at the end of the first six months if she could get Mr. Mancini ready to play for the season, which started in September. To make the deal even sweeter, she was promised twenty thousand dollars as an extra bonus in three weeks if she could sort out all the backlog work from the previous PA and get him to the first scheduled TV appearance with ESPN. That was the first hurdle she had to jump over, which was her trial run. She planned to use that twenty thousand as a deposit for her mother’s surgery. The doctors had agreed to start treatment with a deposit and a subsequent installment plan. The price she was quoted was fifty-five thousand dollars, so by the time she was fully paid she’d have more than enough money for everything.

Amy was ready for this and failure was not an option. Her mother’s life depended on it.

“I wish it was that simple.” Zelda sighed, raising fine, arched brows. “As a PR company we’ve managed to keep a lot of the truth out of the media. What happened to Mr. Mancini was truly terrible, but I’m afraid it affected him a great deal and made him worse than he already was.”

It was the way she put it that held Amy’s attention. Worse than he already was? What did she mean by that?

“Really?” Amy widened her eyes and bit the inside of her bottom lip.

“Yes. I have to be frank with you because, aside from coming from Teddy, you seem like a nice person and I can only imagine that the attractive salary is what interested you.”

“Well, it is rather large.” It was a hell of a lot of money. More than what she’d made at Style in any year, and the fact that she’d get it in lump sums was even better for her situation.

“There’s a reason for that. I’m sure you must have done your research, but what the internet won’t tell you is that Joshua Mancini is a raging alcoholic suffering from deep depression and bereavement. He lost complete control when his mother and sister died, and all I know is that we’ve had ten PAs leave him in the last four months. I won’t scare you with the details but, put simply, before the accident he was a womanizing, self-righteous jerk and now he’s an uber-womanizing, self-righteous jerk with alcohol and mental issues. That’s the part you didn’t read about.” She pressed her mouth together in a tight-lipped smile. “Also, he tends to get overly sexual when under the influence, and you’re blonde and beautiful. His favorite type.” Her eyes clung to Amy’s, analyzing her reaction.

Zelda’s bluntness shocked her. Amy wasn’t expecting that at all. She definitely wasn’t.

“Still want the job?” Zelda asked.

“I need it,” was all Amy could say, because she did. There wasn’t a question about it. She needed this job, and that was the end of any contemplation for her.

“Well honey, I appreciate that, but if he grabs your ass you run like hell. No job is worth the hassle and stress that this man can cause. I just didn’t want you walking in on this blind eyed.”

“Okay.” Amy brought her hands together and pressed on her nails. This didn’t sound good at all, but she had to do it. It was a necessity, and she couldn’t see any other way of getting the funds she needed for her mother.

Her mother had been sick for a very long time. Amy was originally from Atlanta. She’d lived there with her mother and Tristan, her brother, before college.

Her mother had always had heart problems, probably because of all the time spent working so hard to support Amy and her brother. Particularly after her father walked out on them. Amy was eight at the time and her brother was five. Her mother had a part-time job at their school as a receptionist, but her father walking out heralded the need for her to grab another two jobs and move to a trailer park to keep their family going. It was a really rough time and the years of harshness took its toll. The week before Christmas last year Amy got a call from the hospital in Atlanta letting her know that her mother had a severe heart attack and was in intensive care. She was also informed that her mother’s insurance company wouldn’t cover the cost of surgery because she’d lowered her plan to the outpatient package. A way of saving money.

Amy had to use all her savings, everything she’d built up to go to L.A. It was everything she had, but was only enough to cover the cost of a temporary fix to keep her mother going. That was a stent placed in her coronary artery to keep it open and reduce the chance of another heart attack. Had her mother gotten the stent sooner it would have helped her out a lot, but the years of non-treatment and lack of care deteriorated her heart significantly and what she needed was a triple bypass. This was why Amy was here, and why she couldn’t run like hell if Mr. Mancini so chose to grab her ass.

“You sure you’re okay?” Zelda asked, eyeing her with concern.

“Yes, you can count on me. I’m a strong person.”

“Alright, well here is the job specs with your duties. As discussed, your first task is to get Mr. Mancini to the ESPN show. We’ll deposit the twenty-grand bonus into your account then, and the rest will follow in a few months if you can get him ready for training.” The show was in a few days short of three weeks. She was sure she’d be fine. “For your sake, I hope you’ll last the week. These are the keys to his house. That is where you’ll work. We need you there nine to five, later for events as required. If you need anything call me. If he needs anything call me. Best of luck.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Just remember what I said,” Zelda warned.

Amy nodded and fixed her red beret back onto her head. She was very unlikely to forget Zelda’s warning.

Well, here’s to her first day of this job.

She was sure she was in for a very interesting day.

* * *

Amy pulled up in front of Mr. Mancini’s beach house in Malibu at eleven. Located on the oceanfront, it offered a panoramic view of the ocean and sandy beach.

She got out of her car and took a moment to admire it.

Now this was the ultimate definition of modern and creative, eye catching for anyone with a taste for design. The house was truly beautiful and impressive with its extraordinary geometric design and architecture. Fashionable shades of cream and burgundy adorned the concrete walls. It had a flat roof and a grand wooden door that fit perfectly with the glossy windows that were as tall as they were wide. Cedar beams ran over the front porch, adding more character and definition.

Amidst the manicured lawn, cascade of fantail palms, and assortment of exotic plants, it looked like a cut out from a holiday brochure. She’d read that this area was a celeb haven. Amy could definitely see why. A bubble of excitement lifted within her and she couldn’t wait to see what was inside the house.

She wondered what he was going to be like. From the look of the house she could tell he had great taste and an interest in style. People like that tended to be outgoing and friendly, so maybe Zelda was wrong. Maybe she was one of those women who were over dramatic and jumped to her own conclusions.

Amy stepped out of the way to allow a couple jogging with their two retrievers to go by. She then grabbed her purse and proceeded up the steps to the house and opted for ringing the bell as opposed to using the keys Zelda gave her to let herself in. She just thought it was the correct thing to do, especially for someone like him. She may have lived in a trailer park for a rough chunk of her life, but she was as much a southern belle as any of those upper-class girls raised in wealth, with impeccable manners and the correct ways of etiquette.

Besides, if it were her, she didn’t think she’d be too happy if some stranger came into her house completely unannounced and uninvited. She wanted to start off on the right foot with him and didn’t plan to run off like the other PAs. She wasn’t going to allow anyone to push her out of this job, either. Those other PAs might not have needed to be here like she did, maybe they were weak.

She waited patiently, straightened out her blazer, and rolled her beaded bracelets up her arms so they’d stop clinking every time she moved. After a few minutes she rang the bell again and continued to wait.

Fifteen minutes later she was still outside. Maybe he wasn’t in. She moved over to the window but couldn’t see anything because the curtains blocked out any view of the house’s interior. She waited another five minutes before she decided to use the keys, hoping that it would be okay.

As the door swung open the first thing that hit her was the strong, pungent stench of alcohol. The image of a cheap hangout came to mind as that damp, hadn’t-been-cleaned-ever beer smell filled her nostrils. Like the kind of place that would attract the likes of her father. The smell reminded her of him and discomfort filled her stomach at the recollection.

“Hello?” she called out, brushing the memory aside.

There was no answer. She ventured in farther and was greeted by a landmine of garbage in the living room. Pizza boxes, bottles of cider, bottles of wine piled on top of each other. Packets of this and that, junk galore everywhere. The floor was covered and so were the sofas in the living room. What was worse was that there were dirty clothes mixed in with it. Men’s clothes and women’s underwear.

The sight took away from the beauty and tasteful design of the room and from what she could see around her. She didn’t bother to look too much for fear of what else she might see.

There was another stale smell that she suspected was rotten food. Amy was a clean person who was obsessed with organization and having her surroundings tidy. She also believed in clean eating and eating for optimum health. This room and everything around her were an abomination to her and everything she believed in.

A series of female giggles pierced the silence. She looked upstairs to where the sound resonated and saw two women in barely-there bikinis running down the steps. Behind them was Joshua Mancini himself wearing a pair of shorts and a black t-shirt. He was chasing the women.

Amy geared herself up to meet her new employer. Even if she was appalled at the state of the house, she had to make that first impression a good one.

As he got closer she saw that he was truly handsome, indeed, with his sleek muscles and untamed pride. What she saw online was totally drool worthy, but those images had nothing on the real-life Joshua Mancini who was six feet six and extremely well built with a ridged wall of a chest that bulged against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. He was breathtaking to look at with his black, shiny, spiky hair, tanned skin, and piercing eyes with an unusual mix of blue and green.

Turquoise. That was the color. It was turquoise, like the sea in somewhere like the Caribbean. Not that she’d ever been, but she’d seen enough pictures.

He was the kind of man that made you want to stare, even against your will. She quickly adjusted herself and her focus. It would do her no good to go all girlie weak-kneed and turn into some babbling buffoon in front of him. She had to look professional.

He looked her over with appreciation as he made his descent down the stairs and stopped a few paces away from her, making her feel like a dwarf even in her heels that added an extra two inches to her mere five feet and four inches. The women joined him and giggled as they tried to fix each other’s hair.

“Good, the stripper’s here,” he said with a wide smile that revealed super-gorgeous dimples in his exotic high cheek bones. It took her a second or two to realize that he was referring to her.

“No, no I’m from the agency,” she replied quickly.

“Doll, you’re going to have to be more specific than that. What agency did you come from? There’s Kelly’s, Tina’s Angels, Bert’s Whore’s from Hell, but you don’t look like the girls he usually sends. And the list continues.” He was drunk. His words slurred and he smelled like wine and the beer that filled the house.

The women ran into the other room and grabbed their jackets.

“Come on, Josh, we don’t want to be late,” said the dark-haired one that looked like a Barbie doll. Actually, they both did.

Amy decided to ignore the debacle.

“I’m coming, baby, why don’t you start the car up for me,” he laughed. The women proceeded to go outside. He watched them, eyes focused on their exposed behinds in bikini thongs. He then turned back to Amy, giving her a lascivious look. “You coming, babe?”

She felt completely violated as she watched him openly stare at her breasts and, to make matters worse, lick his lips. Quickly, she pulled her jacket closer and cleared her throat in an attempt to bring his attention back up to her face. It didn’t work.

“I’m Amy, your new PA.” That was when he looked up at her and narrowed his eyes. “If you could just point me in the direction of the office, I’ll get started.”

There, that was professional.

To her surprise, however, he started to laugh. It was the usual sort of off-balanced laughter you’d expect from someone who was truly wasted and didn’t know what they were even laughing at.

“Those people are jokers.”

“This is no joke. I’ll take care of all your paperwork and everything.” She offered a smile.

“Ha, ha. Everything? Well you can start in there.” He set his square jaw in a firm line and pointed to the mess in the living room. “Clean that up, will you?”

Her mouth dropped. She attempted to protest but he just walked away, leaving her there to gawk at the crazy mess.

When the door closed she looked around and felt her stomach shy away from the disgraceful site. She was beginning to see why Zelda had given her the heads up. Amy was also beginning to see why the other PAs left. She didn’t realize that this job would come with the extra duty of cleaning.

If her mother wasn’t sick, there was no way in hell that Amy would still be standing here. In fact, if this was under normal circumstances, gorgeous as he was, she would have stormed off after that look he gave her, which explicitly told her what he was thinking.

She was right about one thing, though. This was going to be very interesting indeed.

And possibly disastrous.