“Vittorio, please!” he insists firmly. “Don’t make me feel old. I’m still avery young man.” He still won’t blink, but at least he lets go of my hand.“P.A., hm?” he says as his eyes slide down to my pajamas. “I’m not sureyour attire is entirely appropriate, Miss Wren.”
I flush self-consciously but thankfully, Bee jumps to my rescue. “I’ve askedher to be my live-in P.A., actually. So it’s really more of a work-from-homesituation. It’s a crazy world these days, y’know?”
Vittorio’s eyes widen enough for me to see every single one of the thin redveins that wind through them. “A live-in assistant? That seems…extravagant.”
“I don’t think so,” Bee demurs nonchalantly. “I think it’s efficient. I’mgoing to need a lot of help, especially now, and Wren
