by Villano, Mia
“Right this way, Ambassador. You came at a good time.” I led him to a corner table that was in my line of sight as I worked. Big Betty also manned it. She was our waitress that was rather large, older, and hated men. She would treat him right and leave him alone. I handed him his menu and his hand brushed mine. I became wet; he seemed to do that to me periodically lately. My heart raced in my chest making me aware of my need to be with him.
“Our special tonight is eggplant parmesan, sausage, peppers, seared broccoli is the vegetable, and French onion is the soup. Don’t order the fish if possible.” I smiled remembering my father.
He gazed up at me and I fought the urge to sit on his lap.
“Are there problems with the fish?”
“My dad is upset because only half of his order was delivered today. I believe we have run out already. I’m surprised you can’t hear him screaming.”
“Thank you, Isabella. I won’t order fish.” When I looked back at him, he was still staring at me.
My mom came out from the office. She did that every half hour to make sure everything was running smoothly. I stood in front of her in a daze.
“Izzy, what’s wrong. Are you feeling sick? Your face is bright red.”
“No, no I’m fine, too much coffee,” I lied.
“Get on the ball. We are getting busy, Izzy. I will come out and help you if it gets nuts.”
“The Ambassador is here.” I came out and said it.
“Who? Oh, where is he?” She squinted her eyes and began to look around.
“He’s sitting right over there.” I nodded in his direction and he was reading the menu. Thank God he didn’t see us looking at him.
“No wonder you wanted that job. He’s beautiful.”
“Yes, he’s hot. I’m surprised he isn’t with someone.”
“That someone should be in bed waiting for him,” my mom said, as she continued to stare at Fabrice.
“Mom, please don’t talk like that.”
“Izzy. I’m not dead yet. Get over it.” She smiled and slapped me on the butt with a menu.
Fabrice ordered the Eggplant Parmesan and I watched him eat. He even ate sexy, if that was possible. He seemed to enjoy every bite. Gorgeous politicians came into the restaurant all the time and some flirted with me, which I didn’t mind. I couldn’t take my eyes off this man that had me mesmerized. I noticed none of the women in the restaurant could either. Big Betty even seemed smitten by his appeal and mouthed to me, “He’s hot.”
When my shift was over, I would have normally ran out of the restaurant to get home. I took my time leaving. He wasn’t in a hurry to go and I was hoping to leave when he did so he could walk me out. Fabrice seemed to be in no hurry to leave when I noticed him looking over the dessert menu. I decided to leave and not make a fool out of myself by trying to flirt with him. I’m a level-headed woman, and I don’t allow sex get in the way of work. Somehow, with him, I’ve allowed it twice in one day. No one has stirred me up like this before, not even Anthony when we first started dating.
When I arrived home that evening, Avery was up reading. I smelled the strong aroma of coffee right away. We sat on the floor and I told her how crazy my day was, how he showed up at the restaurant, and how gorgeous looked.
“So you end up in his office, he gives you sex coffee, walks you to the Attaché’s office, and then shows up at the restaurant. You don’t think this is a sign?”
“No, it was coincidence is all.”
“Did you make a move on him?”
“What? Avery, come on.”
“So you did nothing?”
“You don’t make moves on government officials, in my parent’s restaurant in public, Avery. He doesn’t want anything to do with me in that way. I’m kidding myself to think otherwise. The other night I was just smitten by him and was imagining he did.”
“Shut up. That is a bunch of bull. I would have followed him home,” Avery stated flatly.
“Well, I want to keep my job and have a future in Congress.”
“Maybe he will be a regular. You should wear that dress your mom bought you next time you work.” Avery started laughing at my mom’s elaborate tastes.
“Shut up, Avery. You’re jealous.” I eyed the dress hanging on my door. It was way beyond elaborate, and I had no idea how I would get out of wearing it. My mom has great taste but this was too much. It looked like a lounge singer's dress, covered in sparkly sequins.
That reminded me that I needed to look my best from now on when I went to work at the office and the restaurant.
Chapter 5
I was full of boundless energy the next day when I made my way to the office. I wanted to look good in case I were to happen to bump into him. I chose a black dress, nude heels, and I kept my hair down for the day. I added a blazer and my grandmother’s pearls. I primped for an hour, getting up extra early to look good.
I was glad I did when I walked through the front door of the office. I scanned my card and reluctantly went up to my office next to the Attache's. When the elevator stopped, and I saw his office door with his name on it, my breath caught in my chest. Hoping to get a glimpse of him, I was disappointed when I saw none other than Elizabeth Saunders.
As soon as she saw me, she informed me that she loved her job.
“Didn’t we meet yesterday?” she asked as she faced me.
“Yes, we did. How was your first day?” I wanted to be polite, yet I despised her demeanor as she stood in front of me.
“My day was fabulous! I can’t believe I will be traveling to Paris with him a lot. This is a dream job. It doesn’t hurt that he’s hot.” I wanted to slap her across the face from the sheer fact that she was the one spending her days with Fabrice and flying to Paris with him.
“That’s wonderful.” I tried to make light of it to get to her.
“It was. Fabrice and I, all day.” Tempted to tell her to kiss my ass, she shut up.
After I settled into my office, my day seemed to go quite smoothly until we had a meeting that I needed to attend. General Gerard came in and asked me to have some defense file ready for him. He too was French and his accent was a lot stronger than Fabrice. He seemed to be extra serious and highly agitated. Even though he was old, he carried himself with a sense of power and confidence. Once I located the file for him, he asked that I come to the meeting with my tablet and take notes; rather he told me. Reluctantly, I agreed with a smile until I heard it was in Fabrice’s office.
I skipped lunch and made a quick stop to freshen up and look good before the one o' clock meeting. Once the meeting started, I noticed Fabrice was there with Elizabeth next to him. I had not taken my seat yet, and the sight of him made me wobbly in my heels. He was dressed in a navy blue blazer that made his blue eyes even deeper. His shirt was a bright white oxford and his tie was paisley. Mousy Elizabeth was in her glory, smiling and giggling at everything Fabrice said. I tried not to act as if I was out of my comfort zone, though I surely was. I concentrated on what was going on and helped the Attaché with his paperwork. It was uncomfortable being in such an exclusive meeting discussing high security issues and terrorist threats.
Fabrice smiled at me and nodded. The meeting lasted an hour and I was glad I attended. Most of the talk centered on a terror threat in Paris and the need to up security in government buildings. They placed a conference call to Paris with the Vice President. It was going to be necessary to send someone there to oversee the police and forces. The Attaché volunteered to go, but informed us quickly that he was not taking an assistant. I breathed a sigh of relief.
I watched as Fabrice held his meeting with authority. Everyone seemed to respect him and listen to what he had to say. I watched how he sat, relaxed and yet ready to start talking at a moment’s notice. He seemed intent on running the meeting, yet he focused on me whenever he looked out. With his chair across from mine, we couldn’t help but look at each other.
After an hour of discussing a hostage takeover at the American embassy
in Africa, the price of gas, and the week’s events the meeting was over. I wanted to get out of there before I missed my train and had to take the later one. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the meeting, except Fabrice who watched me as I walked to the door. He told Elizabeth he would meet her back at the office. I tried to take my time collecting my things because I thought he was going to talk to me. He started to walk in my direction when the Attaché cornered him.
“Fabrice. It seems we have a situation. I just received a call from Paris. It looks like we both will have to fly out this evening. Can you come into my office? I have the Defense Ministry on the line. We have a situation that needs addressed immediately.”
He looked at me and our eyes caught as I walked out the door. It was uncomfortable standing there while they spoke.
It wasn’t until that evening when I was watching the news that I was officially told what happened. Apparently terrorists stormed a coffee shop in Paris and took hostages in a news station. It was a very bad situation, and one that Fabrice had to deal with. I stayed up all night watching and wondering if Fabrice had made it there safely and hoping to get a glimpse of him. By the time I fell asleep, around one in the morning, twelve people had died and they stormed the news station and killed the terrorists.
Arriving at my job the next morning, I found out the General Gerard and Fabrice would be gone for several days. The General left me detailed instructions on how I was to set up and organize the French defense authorities’ visit for the next week. I had to get one of the senior administrators to guide me along but, in the end, I handled like a pro. I was proud of myself and was sure that General Gerard would be happy or at least amused.
When they arrived back the following Monday, I was excited to see Fabrice. My heart skipped a beat when they called us to a meeting. We were informed on what happened and nothing that was reported in the news was accurate. Once again, I was transfixed on Fabrice as he ran the meeting. The meeting didn’t last very long, and I was ready to go home and call it a day. Everyone walked to the door and, before I could get all my work gathered up, Fabrice came up to me.
“Miss Piori. Can I have a word with you?” He asked as I stopped in the doorway.
“Certainly.” All I could think of was he hated my father’s food and he wanted to tell me he would not be back to the restaurant, or the Attaché wanted to replace me.
“Share an elevator?
“Sure, I’m going down, though.”
“Moonlight again tonight at the restaurant?” He smiled at me as we walked to the elevators down the hall.
“As a matter of fact, I think I’m scheduled.” I laughed.
Fabrice remained quiet until the elevator descended.
“Are you headed home?” he asked. The question came out of nowhere and it took me by total surprise.
“Yes, I’m trying to not miss the train. It looks like it is pouring out.”
“I have to be somewhere; come with me, and I will take you home.”
“No, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Come on.” He gestured to the main doors where there were several blacked-out SUVs parked with their flashers on.
“Ride home with you?” I became a babbling idiot. My face was on fire.
“Yes, Isabella, with me.” He looked at me and I couldn’t look away. He had those eyes that I could get lost in. The sudden wetness between my legs told me that this would be a lot better than riding the train.
Fabrice grabbed an umbrella from the door attendant and opened it over my head before we ran out. Once the driver opened the door for both of us I slid into the backseat with him behind me.
“Did you enjoy your meal last week at my restaurant?” I asked nervously. I was trying to make small talk but didn’t know what I should ask him. He sat right next to me with his wool pants touching my bare leg.
“C'était délicieux.”
“I assume that was delicious?”
“Oui, I mean yes. I love Italian food and visit Italy as much as possible. That dinner was very authentic. Do you have a chef?” he asked.
“We did, but he and my dad got in a huge fight.”
“Was fish involved?” He smiled.
“Ha, no. He did overcook the linguini. My father believes it should be al dente and the chef disagreed. He caught my dad on a bad day,” I babbled again and forced myself to shut up.
“Your father is tough.”
“Yes, he thinks he’s tougher than he is.” My dad’s past was sketchy and he only told us some of it. I do know he was one of ten children. His parents came over from Italy and my grandfather had started Mayme and Danny’s as a diner. The whole family worked in the restaurant and there was no time for anything else. Two of my dad’s brothers were killed in Vietnam; I was close to some of them and we saw them on Sundays. My father, the youngest, was the most successful of the ten. He worked his way up the streets of New York as a kid and fought his way through the Italian gangs. He claims he was friends with John Gotti back in the day. John wanted them to work together but my grandfather beat the crap out of my dad when he found out and forbid him. Thankfully, my dad changed his way of thinking and took my grandparents advice. He was the only one of the ten interested in the restaurant, so he took it over and kept it going.
After my second uncle died in Vietnam, my grandparents moved the restaurant to Washington D.C. I didn’t know why they chose that area. My mom was going to school at Georgetown and that is how she met my father. She was studying to be a lawyer but quit once she met my dad and didn’t go back. She fell in love with my dad when he beat up a guy one night that wouldn’t leave my mom and her girlfriends alone at a bar. She knew he was the one when he took out the guy with one punch and turned to her and smiled.
I sighed and tried to ignore Fabrice’s sensual good looks by concentrating on the traffic and impending storm coming in. It was virtually impossible. He was so visible to all my senses. My thoughts were on how gorgeous he must be under that suit. Did he have boxers on? What color was his underwear? Did he groom himself down there? How his skin would burn against mine. How big he must be and how good it would feel inside me.
“I’m on my way to another meeting with and the Secretary of State. I need to stop at my old office to pick up notes for my meeting. Do you mind?” He said, in a thick accent. All I heard was, “I need”.
“No, not at all. I appreciate this ride home. I have a car. I hate having to deal with the traffic and finding a place to park. The train goes right to my apartment, so it is convenient.” I needed to shut up. Like he cares about all this.
He pulled a bar of chocolate out of his leather bag and ripped it open. He broke off a piece and asked if I would like to try it. It smelled heavenly.
“No, thank you.” I politely declined. I glanced over and watched him enjoy the piece of chocolate he was eating as he closed his eyes. It was quite a sensual sight. It, of course, made me think of how he would enjoy a blowjob, his head thrown back and eyes closed, moaning. It must have had caramel in it, because while he was chewing some of the caramel was on his lips still. The thought crossed my mind to lick it off, but I knew that would not be proper.
“Fabrice, you have some.” I motioned with my finger to my own lip. He tried to wipe it but kept missing the spot.
“Did I get it?” he asked.
“Not quite. If you don’t mind.” I was going to touch his lip. I couldn’t breathe. I wiped the caramel on his lip and he grabbed my hand. Without missing a step, he had my finger in his mouth and licked the caramel off. I almost came. His mouth was so wet and warm. His soft tongue brushed my fingertip, and I wanted it to brush my clit.
“Not missing a sliver of that. It’s La Maison Du Chocolat, the best. Are you sure you would not like to try some, Isabella?” Boy, did I want some.
“No, I’m fine.” I was still reeling from his finger licking. He smiled.
“I love this chocolate. It’s another guilty
pleasure of mine.”
“I see. You are starting to have a list of guilty pleasures, Mr. Arbidoux.”
“That I do, Isabella. That I do.” He licked his bottom lip and I had to turn my head and focus on the weather.
“That makes two of us.” I said, as I looked back at him and smiled.
We arrived at another office building, not far from the Embassy.
“Come in with me. I will show you my old office before I moved to my new location. Plus, you shouldn’t sit outside in a government car for too long.”
The driver opened the door for us. Fabrice helped me slide across the seat. He told the driver not to leave and the driver nodded at him.
He swiped a card through the security at the door and opened it for me. An older woman sat at a desk and smiled when he walked in. I was confused at what was going on.
“Good afternoon, Ambassador Arbidoux.” She smiled up at him.
“Good afternoon, Rita. I won’t be long. This is Isabella Piori. She is the new assistant to the Attaché. We are retrieving something for a meeting.”
He touched my waist and guided me to a hallway; he unlocked the door and stepped into a spacious office. I was even more confused at where we were. The office was elaborate with artwork on the walls, a huge television, and lush expensive furniture.
“I had this office when I was appointed Ambassador, and I don’t want to get rid of it. I still have most of my personal things in here. It is my hideaway. Make yourself comfortable. I will only be a minute. Would you like a coffee or maybe a piece of chocolate?”
“No, thanks.” I had to smile because he kept pushing that chocolate on me.
I sat on the sofa. It was brown, thick leather with brass buttons and overly stuffed.
Fabrice was at a huge desk, leafing through papers and opening drawers.
