[Bianca]
Anxious didn't even begin to describe my first full day working under Dante.
Maybe it was because I hadn't had a proper office job in years, or maybe it was because of him—the deranged narcissist who seemed to think "assistant" meant glorified errand mule with benefits.
Dante had me darting in and out of the elevator like I was trying to win an Olympic medal in coffee-fetching. If it wasn't a missing pen, it was printer paper. If it wasn't paper, it was gum. And if it wasn't gum, then apparently his royal throat was suddenly dry and needed "hydration."
God forbid the man actually stand up and get water like a normal person.
To make matters worse, I hadn't eaten all day. No breakfast, no lunch, not even a light snack. Just water and the aroma of his beverages.
At some point,
