The Ambassador and Me: an unlikely love story (The Ambassador Trilogy Book 1)

by Villano, Mia

  “And here is a list of what I do. Here is what Jean does. I had Vance type this up for you. It explains what my day is like, and Jean’s. We travel back and forth to Paris quite often and you would sometimes have to come with us as his assistant. I hope that won’t be a problem. I don’t stay long. It’s an in-and-out trip.”

  I became even hotter. Paris. In-and-out. I didn’t have any idea I would be traveling to Paris as part of the job. I should have asked before I took this responsibility.

  “No, that’s fine,” I lied. I was lost in a short fantasy of looking at the Eiffel Tower, with him standing behind me and his erection pressed up against me. I had to stop. I don’t do this. I’m professional. My heart raced and my face flushed. How could this be happening?

  “Great.”

  We sipped out exquisite coffee, he went over my responsibilities, and then it happened: Our time together was abruptly interrupted.

  Vance poked his head inside.

  “Ambassador, sorry for the interruption, but Elizabeth Saunders is here and Jean just arrived.” I hated her already and I hadn’t even met her yet. She had the job I wanted. Maybe I could bribe her to switch. I was already settled in her office and didn’t want to move.

  Vance opened the door and in walked a tall, mousy-looking woman. I had to check her out. Holding her windbreaker in her hands stood a girl that looked very shy and out of place. Her outfit consisted of an ankle length skirt and a cardigan over a white blouse buttoned to her throat. She had on minimal makeup and her brown hair put up in a ponytail. She wore flats and carried a bag that said, “Reading is my passion.” She was more fitted for the Attaché’s assistant and hopefully they would switch us. Fabrice stood up and shook her hand as he did mine.

  “Good morning, Elizabeth.” I didn’t know what to do. Should I leave or stay? I was confused.

  “Vance, have Elizabeth start to read over her job responsibilities. Elizabeth, I will be right back and we can get this day started. I’m going to take Miss Piori where she needs to be.” He closed my folder and stood up.

  “Yes, Ambassador.”

  Elizabeth was too happy to get herself in the office as I gathered my things and stepped out.

  “I will be right back, Elizabeth. Feel free to have some coffee.” He smiled and guided me out the door.

  “Thank you,” I said. He was simply delicious and I was envious of Elizabeth, to say the least.

  Fabrice extended his hand for me to walk in front of him. His eyes burned on my legs, ass, and back as he followed behind me.

  “Let’s get you settled in this morning with Jean. He’s a good guy that likes to act intimidating. Don’t let it fool you. Their offices are on the same floor and down the hall. That’s where I was headed when I caught you in the elevator earlier.”

  “Again, thank you.”

  Something happened to the air between us like it had the other night when we were at the gala. The fierce charisma he seemed to exude grew more intense in the few moments we were alone walking down the hallway. I was both heartbroken and relieved that I didn’t work for him. How would I have concentrated if I worked for him? How could anyone other than a man work for him and not be distracted?

  We walked into the secured doors and the receptionist almost fell over jumping up when she saw Fabrice. This office area was a lot smaller than the Ambassador's and not as elaborate. The receptionist was the only person in the waiting area, along with two chairs. Her desk was quite large and she had several phones and computer screens covering the front. Above her head were three televisions with the news from three different stations playing. I could smell the aroma of strong coffee in the air.

  “Good morning, Ambassador.” She laughed nervously.

  “Good morning. I have Miss Isabella Piori here. She is to start work with you today. Please make note that she was not late.” Fabrice was serious and not there for a social call.

  “Yes. Hello, Miss Piori. The Attaché just arrived.” She laughed and snorted.

  “Thank you.” Fabrice turned to me and extended his hand. I was hoping he would throw me over his shoulder and take me back to his office. I placed my hand in his and it burned from his touch. For a brief second I imagined his hand touching my breasts or my thighs. The heat from him shot up my arm to my nipples that were now, once again, standing at attention. He smiled at me.

  “You are fine now, Miss Piori. I enjoyed our coffee this morning. Come by anytime and grab some. I’m sure to see you later in a meeting.” His accent was strong and his voice was raspy. Instantly I thought of pinning him to the wall and snapping his leather suspenders.

  “Thank you, Ambassador, for walking me here.”

  “Please, call me Fabrice. Enjoy your first day.” We kept eye contact because I didn’t want to stop looking at him. I have never been so turned on by a man before, especially one that was older than I was. There was a pull to him that I didn’t want to go away.

  Turning away from him, I followed the receptionist to the back. I glanced back one last time to find him looking at me and he winked. I could have orgasmed from that alone. I gave him a quick wave and found my office attached to the Attaché’s. It overlooked the city and was as small as the one in Fabrice's office, and I met with the Attaché himself.

  After he took me around and introduced me to everyone, we got down to business. Unlike Fabrice, the Attache informed me that I should call him General Gerard. He was very stern and matter of fact. There was no smiling, laughing, or offering me coffee as I sat across from him in his office for two hours. More like an interrogation than a meeting, he asked me everything from could I work weekends to what was my cell phone number. I caught a slight glimpse of a smile when his wife called him. The smile was so faint I couldn’t tell if he had teeth.

  I was in a daze as he told me what was expected of me and what he needed me to start doing. We had to prepare a meeting for the next day and he needed me to get to work. It was time to stop thinking of sex and concentrate on the job I was hired to do. As long as I didn’t see Fabrice again, I would be fine. His scent was still in the air and I still could feel his hand on mine as the Attaché instructed me I would be organizing French defense authorities’ visits to the U.S.

  By the end of our meeting, my head was frazzled. I hope I had not bitten off more than I could chew. The biggest thing I had organized previously was a communion party for my cousin. I could not wait to get out of there at the end of the day.

  Chapter 4

  Avery sat on the floor eating radishes, celery, and reading a fashion magazine, with her slender body wrapped in a Prada sweater and a stocking cap pulled down over her eyebrows. She was always freezing, even though it was eighty degrees outside. I was supposed to make us dinner, but the plans were cancelled mid-day. My family called asking if I could work at the restaurant a few hours as a hostess. I was tremendously exhausted but had to pull my weight. My sister was now working my old job and had to study for an exam. One night only they had promised, and I reluctantly agreed. Avery was upset and wanted me to tell them no. She doesn’t have the relationship with her parents like I do mine and couldn’t understand how I do what I’m asked at twenty-six years old. She is an only child and was raised by a nanny and sent to boarding school. Though she won’t admit it, she loves to come over to my family’s house and experience the chaos.

  “I do what I have to. My family needs me tonight, so I have to be there. Let’s celebrate this weekend.”

  “Sounds like a date. I have to get dressed and be at the restaurant in an hour. Let’s talk when I get home.”

  “You are acting strange. Is everything okay with you? Did you bang the Ambassador in his office? I waited all day to hear what happened.”

  “No, I didn’t bang him, Ave. He touched me, though, not in a sexual way for him but for me it was. I have to get going. Can we talk tonight?”

  “For fucks sake, I’m home tonight and will be waiting and studying. I hate when you make me wait for good stories. I have to
take and pass the bar exam next month, so hopefully I can concentrate.”

  “Have the coffee ready for when I get back. I’m working the early dinner shift.” Coffee, reminded me of Fabrice and his cinnamon, vanilla coffee and sex.

  I headed out in my Mayme and Danny’s attire of a black skirt, white blouse and black heels. It was hot out, so I drove to the restaurant this time since it was before rush hour. The restaurant is twenty minutes from my condo, so it wasn’t a long drive and I could take back roads.

  The moment I walked into the restaurant, the smell of my second life embraced me. The place was not busy yet, but I smelled the familiar aroma of the days special: Eggplant parmesan, sausage, and peppers. My sister Sophia tapped her foot with her arms crossed waiting for me to take over her shift. Checking my phone with a grimace, I noticed I was almost late. To me almost late is showing up right on time. I hated when that happened and so did my family.

  “You’re late, Isabella.”

  “I’m not even close to late. I had to go home and change, Sophia, so settle down.”

  My sister was a pain in the ass when we were together. I loved her to death but we were complete opposites. She was five years younger than I was. The age difference didn’t bother us when we were little. We never had that sisterly bond. She wasn’t my best friend and we didn’t have long talks in the middle of the night. We weren’t like that and it worked for us. She was in her second year of college studying business management so she could work in the restaurant. She didn’t have the bug to do something different yet and probably wouldn’t. Sophia was perfectly happy living at home and working with my family.

  “Mom and Dad are in the back. Dad is having a fit because only half the fish was delivered today. I would not tick him off.”

  “I will avoid him at all costs.”

  I knew my dad could get pretty cranked up when anything didn’t go like clockwork. He had a short fuse to begin with and it didn’t take much to get him in an uproar. Sophie grabbed her backpack from behind the bar and headed out the door. My younger sister was standout-looking with jet black hair, an all-year tan, white teeth, and perfect nails. Sophie would have fit in perfectly at the Jersey Shore and my brothers loved to tease her. My mom swears it’s because she let her stay with my Aunt Gigi in Seaside Heights last summer. She came back looking like one of the Mob Wives and refused to change. My Aunt Gigi’s has three daughters that all look like Sophia. Thank God, I didn’t go.

  “Study hard. If you need me this week let me know ahead of time.”

  “I will. Thanks, Izzy.” Izzy was my name with my family. All my life I was known as Izzy and it was strange when the Ambassador called me Isabella.

  I put my purse under the bar and straightened out my black skirt. Black was the standard color we wore when we worked at Mayme and Danny’s. It fit with the décor. My grandparents started this in New York, but it didn’t get the mafia theme until my father took over. There were pictures of Al Capone, Sinatra, Dean Martin, and John Gotti along the walls. My parents kept this going and it worked well even in D.C. The music was always playing in the background and in the summer the terrace would open up, and my father would hire Italian bands to play. The sound of silverware clanging, dishes stacking, and the grill sizzling was a comfort to me.

  The place should be getting busy in ten minutes when dinner officially started. I waved at my brother Marco who was in the back cooking. He waved a spatula back at me. I loved all my brothers but Marco was my favorite. He had the temper of a giant, but the short stature of my dad. It didn’t take long for Marco to get into a fight if someone looked at him the wrong way. He drove my parents insane when he was in school, always getting into fights. He had my mom’s beautiful features and a head of wavy black hair. When he wasn’t in the restaurant he was playing his guitar in his rock band. The girls loved him, but Marco didn’t like to play the field.

  “Hey, princess,” my mom said, walking out of the office. She was the money handler in the restaurant and the marketing guru. We credit our great fortune on her masterfully handling the finances of the restaurant. When my grandparents opened up the Mayme and Danny’s sixty years ago, it was a diner-style place with a couple of booths and their famous recipes brought over from Italy. It didn’t take long for my mom to make it one of the swankiest dining experiences in D.C.

  “Hi, Mom. Will we be busy tonight?”

  “When aren’t we anymore, Izzy? There’s a late night senate bill being voted on tonight, so they will be in here to eat. And, of course, it is election season. You look different.”

  Different? I didn’t know how.

  “Good or bad?”

  “Good. You look sparkly and alive. Must be the new job? How was your first day?” She smiled and kissed me on both cheeks.

  My mom was gorgeous for sixty years old. People say she looks like Sophia Loren, and I thought she resembled Julia Roberts. Born and raised in Brooklyn, she never completely lost her accent. It came out when she was pissed at one of us or talking on the phone to Aunt Gigi.

  Lately there were two things that made her happy: money and more money. When we were growing up she was different, but ever since the event last year she had become obsessed with making and spending it.

  My sister and I didn’t get lucky enough to get her breathtaking beauty. We both resembled my dad, though my sister was blessed with being tall and thin. Don’t get me wrong, my dad is extremely handsome. He is short and has black wavy hair that is now peppered with mostly grey, a large Italian nose, and full lips. I’m not complaining, but I wish sometimes I was statuesque like my mom.

  My two brothers, on the other hand, look like her. My mom is Italian as well; she and my dad has recently celebrated forty years of marriage. Thirty five of it was happy- the last five were miserable for them and us.

  “It was great. I’m going to love it there.” I smiled back at her thinking of my day and wanting to tell my mom about the Ambassador and how there was a spark between us.

  “On your break, come back to my office. I bought you a dress for next week,” she smiled at me and walked away. Just what I needed was more dresses. I had enough to open my own store. My father was hosting an election party and I needed to dress up and, of course, work. I tell her repeatedly I can wear a dress more than once, but she doesn’t think I should.

  The restaurant became busy by seven. I was beyond exhausted and Marco brought me espresso after espresso. It seemed to help slightly and gave me a stomachache as well. I took a break early went to try on the elaborate dress, and ate some eggplant. I had a few minutes to tell her about my day and how gorgeous the French Ambassador was. I inherited my love for men from my mom. She had a roving eye for any handsome, wealthy man that walked into the restaurant.

  “Mom, you would love him.” I said, with extra excitement in my voice.

  “I saw a picture of him you showed me on the Internet.” She didn’t take her eyes from the paperwork she had in front of her. Scattered on her desk that no one was allowed to go near, were the workings of the restaurant. We have all tried to talk her into putting all of it into a computer program, but she likes the old school way. It seems to keep working for her so we quit arguing with her about it.

  “The pictures are not even close to how he looks in person. And the way he smells, Mom. I can’t even describe it.”

  “Sounds like someone has a crush,” she laughed.

  “I’m not twelve.”

  “Don’t lose your head, Izzy. You wanted this career outside the restaurant. Make sure you focus on that and not the man.” She glanced up at me with her reading glasses perched on her nose.

  “Of course. It’s nice to look at while I’m working.”

  “Remember that. They are only good to look at,” she laughed.

  Five years ago my mom and dad started fighting. It seemed to happen out of the blue one day and my sister, two brothers and I didn’t know why. All of a sudden, they hated to be around each other and argued over everything. It ha
s been like that up until last year. That is when things came to a head, and now they are back in love again. At least, they pretend to be in love.

  I went to the restroom to freshen up for a minute in between customers. When I got back to the front desk, I gasped. I stood by the doors, waiting to seat someone, when I saw Fabrice. The Ambassador had on his crisp, white oxford and dress pants with the leather suspenders he wore earlier. It wasn’t until his eyes locked onto mine that my knees wobbled. He looked better than he did in his office earlier. At that moment I wished I had taken more time getting ready. I should have applied more lipstick, more mascara, something. He walked up to me with confidence and a swagger that said he had to be incredible in bed. I couldn’t help but blush and stare at him. The fierceness of his eyes on me was scorching hot.

  “Ambassador, nice to see you again today. Would you like a table?” I couldn’t help but look for a beautiful woman he must be dining with.

  “Miss Piori?”

  “Yes, it’s me again.”

  There was a crackling in the air between us. It was different seeing him out and not inside the office as I had.

  “How many jobs do you have? Should I expect you to be working at the gas station later when I need to fill up?” he laughed at me.

  “I had to pull a shift tonight. I won’t be at the gas station, but I’m scheduled to drive a bus in the morning.” I smiled back at him.

  “You are a resourceful woman. How did your day turn out for you?”

  “It was fine.” I lied. I wanted to work for him. General Gerard was quite the stern mean one I thought he would be. He didn’t smile all day.

  “How many will be dining with you?” I asked, hearing my voice sound shaky. More people walked in and I didn’t notice them. All I noticed was Fabrice.

  “Just me, Isabella. I wanted to try the restaurant you mentioned at the gala. I love the décor.” Just him. No date. No redhead. His voice even sounded different when he was not in the office. It sounded huskier and deeper and that accent. Every time he spoke, I couldn’t help but think of sex. Mind blowing, up against the wall, rough sex. We held each other’s gaze and I was unable to look away. He exuded power and aggressiveness even now standing in the restaurant. My God, he was gorgeous.