Chapter 34: Old men and Pink Diaries.

GIOVANNI.

I nodded satisfied with what was before me. She wasn't dumb after all. She could do her work efficiently even though she was a pain in the ass.

Kiki recently submitted the files I had asked her to prepare and I was beyond surprised at how efficiently and accurately she had done it. She was a gem to keep, for real.

I shut my eyes, digging my right hand into my hair. This was getting difficult. She had almost made me lose my cool earlier. I couldn't stop thinking about how boobs tossed over the other when she bent down a little to place the file on my desk like I had instructed her to. Or how her hair had tossled over, covering her face in that small dire moment and the cusses that flew out of her mouth at that.

Let's not forget how her ass literally shook when she spurned around to walk out of my office. I didn't know if she did that on purpose or not but it didn't matter.

All that mattered was that she was driving me crazy.

Every second.

It was just the first day and I was already losing my shit for her. I had to keep things cool. No pleasure with business. I had to remind myself that I didn't indulge in an office romance. It wasn't my thing.

But why was she affecting me this way?

If she kept it up, I was going to lose what was left of my sanity. I had to tell her to stop dressing like that in the office. Damn, that was a college girl dress sense. This was an office, there has to be a change.

The door creaked open and the scent I had come to familiarize her with; lavender mixed with a tinge of orange powder wafted into my nostrils as she darted in, taking one step after the other like a damn queen that she was. She didn't realize I was watching her until she took a seat adjacent to my seat, her pink diary in my face.

It was almost time for the meeting and our client would be here any moment from now. I watched her, her delicate little pretty fingers grazing over the pink cover of the diary.

I studied the note very well and my forehead creased at what was on it. It wasn't the color of the diary, definitely not cos I had no problem with that. The problem was that the diary had some emoji's representing dicks, boobs, and asses on it.

What the hell was she doing with a diary like that in an environment like this?

I had just opened my mouth to speak when the door pulled open and our guest sauntered in. He was an elderly man. Probably in his middle sixties. His suit clung to his body and he took one step after the other. I got on my feet to welcome him, Kiki doing the same.

“Welcome, Mr. Rodriguez,” I said, my business mode activated. But the old man wasn't looking at me. He wasn't even paying me attention. His eyes were on Kiki who was smiling innocently at him, to welcome him.

I felt my blood boil at the familiar tinge of lust that clouded his eyes. I took his hands forcefully, my grip on his hardening a bit. He was forced to acknowledge me and I passed him a faux smile.

I pointed at a seat for the old man but instead, he crossed over to Kiki's and sat beside her. I was alarmed and I wondered why.

“Sir, I think it would be better if you sit here,” I told him, my voice a bit stern.

“I'm okay here.” He smiled, offering me his rotten tooth. “You are Giovanni Calisto?” He inquired as I took my seat, adjusting my blazer.

“One and only,” I said through gritted teeth when he took a glance at Kiki. “This is Kiki, my PA.” I introduced it even though I hated it, emphasizing the last word. However, the old man turned to Kiki and took her hand for a handshake. The kind I knew too well.

“So, this is our latest project. Our latest design.” I said, ready to hit the nail on the head. I grabbed the sample box and pushed it toward him. He opened the box and took out a pair of stripper heels.

“My team discovered that most stripers find it difficult to dance in our regular six inches heel so we decided to put an end to their misery and come up with something more convenient. On further research, we discovered that all we had to do was to change their soles and a few things. And voila, there you have it.” I gave a summary as he checked out the tiger-skinned striper heel.

“This is a nice concept,” He began after a while of silence. “But I don't think the ladies would love this. It isn't even as tall as their regulars.” He shook his head putting down the shoe into the box.

“I assure you, Mr. Rodriguez, that it isn't about how tall they are but if they can make them perform their functions efficiently. These pair of striper heels would make any lady's feet convenient and relaxed. Thereby, they would skillfully dance or walk in them. That is the whole point.” I countered.

“We need them to be tall and sexy. This shoe looks off and not sexy.” He shook his head.

“Sir,” I took in a reassuring breath. “This is one of our great masterpieces. It has been tested and proven. We wouldn't produce something that wouldn't last.” I told him.

“That isn't the point, Giovanni.” He butted in.

“What the point is that they aren't sexy enough for my ladies' feet. Neither are they tall as I want. This pattern and skin aren't even for my ladies.” He insisted. I was becoming to get frustrated but I was calm.

“But sir, ” Someone butted in. My head snapped towards the owner of the voice and I felt my eyes widen.

What in heaven's name was she trying to do?