Nicco

Ch. 2: A Very Moanable Name

ARIA

In respectful but firm tones, I try to worm my way out of this shitty predicament, "Sir, might I remind you, I was hired as a financial analyst. Not a personal assistant. I don't think I'll be a good fi—"

Robert cuts me off, "I understand this situation isn't ideal, but I'm not making a request, Aria. You were hand-picked for this opportunity because I know you have what it takes to handle someone as high profile as Mr. Vitale's son."

Indignation rings between my ears. It takes every ounce of my self-control to keep my professionalism in check. "I appreciate your confidence in my abilities."

"You're welcome."

You're welcome—my arse!

I'm not daft. I can read between the lines, and I'm almost certain that I was only hand-picked because:

1. I'm competent enough to kickass at my job while covering for someone else's nepotistic ass.

2. I'm a low-level employee who can be strong-armed into compliance.

Cautiously, I ask, "What would happen if I were to decline this opportunity?"

"Then you may continue working as a financial analyst," Robert murmurs, "but it may become difficult for you to build a lasting career at Jackson & James."

Meaning that I'll probably be let go during the next round of lay-offs.

Or I simply won't be promoted to better positions down the line.

Fuck.

As calmly as possible, I argue, "Even if I agree to this proposal, there aren't enough hours in a day for one person to carry out two full-time jobs."

Robert assures me, "You'll be compensated generously, of course, for your extra time and effort, and, until further notice, you may offload your projects to Theo and Maya. I promise this is only temporary. You'll be able to return to your regular duties in a few months."

I take a moment to consider my options:

1. I could resign.

2. I could go to HR and file a complaint.

3. Or, I could agree to this insane arrangement for a few months, earn some brownie points with Robert, and use them to further my career down the line.

My mind sets.

"Fine," I clip. "I'll do it."

Robert practically beams. "I knew I could count on you, Aria."

I don't hesitate to get a head start on my new role. "Can you tell me more about Mr. Vitale's son?"

"All I know is that he graduated from Cambridge with a background in business. I don't think he has any prior work experience, though."

Oh, fucking hell.

The bastard has never worked a day in his life?

I'll have to hold his hand like he's a blind toddler trying to cross a road during traffic hour. Feeling more than a little anxious, I demand, "What will be expected of me as his PA? I want to be fully prepared."

"I'll have someone email you the details later this afternoon."

"Thank you," I grunt. "I'll make sure to have everything ready for—oh, wait. What was his name, again?"

Robert supplies readily, "Niccolò Vitale."

I hum each syllable, slow and soft, under my breath, "Niccolò... Vitale..."