Penellaphe Giordano Prada's pov
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It's Valentine's Day.
I don't think I have ever been in such a good mood in the last three years, I jumped from bed singing Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter like a dam Disney Princess, and I got ready for work, making myself twice more beautiful than normal.
All of my clothes are stilish, I am a Prada after all and nonna made this an empire of fashion, though we own more than just Prada, as well as Yves Saint Laurent, Versace, Jimmy Choo, Bulgari, Tom Ford, Sephora, and Christian Dior, and we also have a wine factory in Italy. I am the CEO of the branch of the Prada Group in the United Kingdom as a whole, while my brothers take care of the Italian branch where it all really happens.
So, looking good comes natural to me, I made sure everyone who works for me, for us, looks good and dressed in one of the brands we represent. The company is my stage, they may hate me, but that's not what matters, being a bitch is part of it, nonna used to say that they need know who is the boss. She actually wanted me to take over the Italian branch, but though I love Italy, the idea of living there with my family made me nauseous, and now that she's not there anymore, I see no reason for that.
I did my skin care in my light skin, I made my wavy hip-length hair look perfect, I picked a sensual dark red dress that goes to the middle of my thighs marking all of my curves, then I put on my knee-high black high heeled platform boots that add 15 cm to my height, put on my jewels of the day, keeping my grandma's promise ring in my left ring finger. Then I did a make up making my eyelids golden with a red eyeliner, my lips cherry red, my black mascara, and lastly my Tom Ford's Lost Cherry fragrance.
Then I grabbed my Saint Laurent dark red handbag, shifting all of my things to it, and only then I walked out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. I had made nonna's tiramisu recipe yesterday after work, so, I put it in a recipient, together with a small bottle of my favorite bubbly wine from our Italian winery, and my Italian butty with my homemade bread filled with the Italian cheese I bought in a place in Mayfair, and thinly sliced bangers, and lastly I got a bottle of my favorite strawberry lemonade. Putting it all in my Prada black lunchbox, I headed out of the kitchen and to the living room.
Right when I was picking the car I'll use today, my assistant Kathleen Knightley, who used to work with nonna in Italy, arrived in the lift. And the second she saw me, dressed in colors for the first time in three years, she smiled kindly, eyes teary, "Happy Valentine's Day, Penellaphe," she chanted. "You look dashingly beautiful today, like Gemma used to say, red is your color, my dear."
I couldn't help smiling, because she's right, nonna used to tell me that since I was little girl. "Happy Valentine's Day, Kath. Thank you, you look beautiful as well," then I handed her the key of my mahogany red Lamborghini Urus, as she drives for me. "I want to go on the new boy."
Nodding, she welcomed me into the lift, taking my lunchbox off my hands, "You look excitingly happy today, Penellaphe," she purred, and I felt my cheeks blush. "Did anything happen?"
"I'll meet my pen-pal tonight," I pressed my lips together, but I couldn't even fight the smile that was taking over my lips.
"A, was it?" She chanted naughtily, making me blush. "So you finally did a move on him, uh? And here I was thinking you were about to try something with the new COO," she poked me.
"Apollo LaFontaine? No," I gasped. "He clearly hates me, he is the hottest men I've seen, and he's my type, but he hates me. And, he 6 years younger than me, that's a lot. He's 22 and I'm 28."
"No, he is 22 and you will turn 28 in April, but he'll turn 23 in October, it's less than 6 years," she tilted her head. "And you've been eating the boy with your eyes, every time he isn't looking. They may not have noticed, but I did. You are definitely thirsting for him, and it's not like you haven't spent the night with guys younger than you. Besides, you're not in the United States anymore, Pen, he's been an adult since he was 18."
"I'm not going to fuck Apollo, Kath," I scoffed as the lift doors opened and we went to the garage where my twenty cars are, striding towards the Urus. "Besides, I'm sure he's not single."
"I doubt that," she opened the back door for me, closed it, and went to the front. "And I know you told me not to dig into the boy, when I offered you, but I just couldn't help it," she told me, closing the driver door, putting her seatbelt and driving us out of here.
"Kathleen," I cried exasperated.
"Oh, come on, it won't hurt to know."
"That's invasive, Kath," I sighed.
"Not really. He's been working for you for some years now, he's incredibly intelligent, his IQ is spectacular, he comes from French old money, his British family is filthy rich, he's all put together, he went to Harvard, he was the ace of the Hockey team there, and he's just too dam perfect and it's annoying. He's a gentleman with everyone, and he seems to have some kind of grudge on you, given how he glared at you as if you had just murdered a newborn."
Her words made my skin blush, "Oh, I know. I've been ignoring that for a while now, it felt like he had something on me ever since the interview. He looked like he knew me, but I'm sure I would know, had I known him."
"And you might have, and forgot," she chuckled. "Your memory is horrible, you have a hard time remembering people around you, so that could be it."
I blinked, confused, "Why did you say that?"
"Because," she tilted her head as we got to a red light, "he is from Manchester, like you. And like you, he went to Wolfgang Prep Academy."
My blood went cold, "What?"
"He was probably 5 grades under you, given how you both jumped a year. But yeah, the probability of the two of you knowing each other, you having done something to him with that nasty antisocial personality of yours, him holding a grudge, and you totally forgetting him, is, high."
Anxious laughter bubbled in my chest, "Oh, cunt."
"Yeah," she drove again, "oh, cunt."
"But Kath, I never even interacted with kids younger than me," I frowned, trying to remember. "I mean, sure, it makes sense that he felt familiar, but I wasn't the type to hurt a kid."
"The bullies never remember what they do, tsk."
I gasped, "I was not a bully, Kath, Jesus Christ."
"Not on the overall, but maybe you bullied him accidentally?"
"Accidental bullying ain't a thing," I scoffed.
"Maybe you had a sick crush and,"
"I graduated at 17, I did not have a crush on a 11 or 12 year old little boy, Kath, ew," I scowled. "I doubt at that age he was even in puberty, he was probably a short weird looking kid and changed entirely during puberty. That's how it goes with boys. Besides, I was hated by everyone, nobody liked me, they all side-eyed me with disgust for a reason I never knew and neither do I want to. I felt like an ugly wall-flower near everyone else, I barely talked with anyone at all. I'm antisocial, I've always been."
"That's your version of the story, Pen, but we never truly know how others perceived you. Maybe you did something accidentally, a small thing, and he held a grudge because of it. Some people are just like that!"
"It's been 10 years since I graduated from school now, Kath, I don't want to think about it. I'm sure I never met him, I may have seen him around as a kid, but I doubt I ever interacted with him. If he holds a grudge for nothing, it's because he's an immature cunt, and it has nothing to do with me," I snapped. "Who knows? He might dislike me for nothing just like all of them did back then."
"I bet he has a grudge."
"And I hope he takes that fuckity cunt of a grudge and sticks up on his," she pressed the wheel of the car and the sound of it made me stop cursing. "Hah, very mature of you."
"You are cursing him, but I bet you still want to fuck him."
My skin burned and I looked at the window, "Yes, and?"
"Penellaphe," she cackled.
"Oh, don't give me that. You know he's hot, and you've heard the rumors about how well he fucks, and how big his cock is. Some said he has tattoos under those clothes of his that cover everything, others said he has a bud piercing in the head of his cock, and some said the piercing is in his tongue and he devours a cunt like a God," I clenched my thighs just at the thought of it. "It makes a woman curious, specially because he looks and acts around everyone like the type to fuck kindly and in one position. Though he's getting more bold around me, being ruder, hah."
"Not like you don't like it," she chuckled, finally parking the car in the VIP side of the parking lot, then she turned to me. "You're a nasty one."
"Kathleen," I gasped getting out of the car and trying to make all of my emotions vanish, though I'm sure the blush stayed, I blame it on how dam light my skin is. "Ugh, now I'll have naughty thoughts."
"You always has naughty thoughts, Penellaphe," she cackled.
"Oh, fuck off," I rolled my eyes, channeling my inner Miranda in Devil Wears Prada, with a bitch face on, and I strode inside, my heals clacking on the ground loud enough for everyone to go dead silent, they eyes all on me, Kath hot on my heels, lunchbox in one hand, iPad in the other. "Is there a chance of cancelling the dinner tonight and changing it for tomorrow?"
"Eight of the shareholders who will be in the event tonight with their partners, won't be in London tomorrow, so I don't think so," she said seriously, her cheeky attitude nowhere to be seen in front of the others. "Can't you set the date with him for tomorrow? Or better yet, for Friday or Saturday? The 16th or the 17th? It's Wednesday today, not the best day for a date with your partner," as she said the last sentence, the lift that came from the underground garage opened and we went dead silent when none other than Apollo was inside.
"No, I don't want to cancel the date with him, it has to be tonight," I told her, glaring back at him, and he arched his eyebrows. "What?" I snapped at him, speaking with him on anything aside from work for the first time since we met, and I had to glance up, because the dam bastard is 2.06 meters tall, and I'm barely 1.67m.
It's infuriating.
"A date on a Wednesday when we have a business dinner, really, Giordano? That's sounds a little bit unprofessional of you, doesn't it? Especially when you are in such an important position? You haven't gotten the position for that long, and you already want to miss the casual meeting?"
Clenching my jaw, I cursed this bastard mentally, "I don't see how does that concerns the likes of you, LaFontaine. You must be miserably lonely if you're so eager to spend Valentine's day in a business dinner, surrounded by couples."
"Said the one who is so lonely she spends every holiday in business events, with nobody at her side," he pointed to my family ring. "Seems like your husband isn't very happy to be doomed in a marriage with you, is he?"
I couldn't hold the loud laughter that bubbled in my chest when he said that, so much my shoulders shook and I had to hold onto Kathleen not to bend down and flash my cleavage to him, and I could feel him staring at me, probably because he's never seen me laughing. "Husband?" I asked, giggling so much I felt my eyes teary. "He thinks I'm married, Kath," I burst out laughing and she did her best to hold her laughter inside, though she was clearly struggling.
"You have a ring in your left ring finger, it's the hand of engagement and marriage, how is that funny?" He exclaimed, sounding annoyed.
"It's a... family ring from my nonna, you fool," I chuckled, my shoulders shaking. "Married, as if," I scoffed, still laughing. "I'm married to my work, LaFontaine, I have no time for this. Though when I marry, I already know who it'll be," I said, struggling to put myself together, feeling like laughing again. "My husband," I shook again, "oh, I never knew you were funny like this," I turned to Kath. "Can you believe this?" I cackled.
As soon as we got to the executive floor, I strode outside with Kath, still giggling, and everyone gasped in pure shock, not just because I'm dressed in color but because I'm laughing.
But I couldn't help it.
"I have to tell A this, he'll laugh so much," I told her as we got to my office and she closed the soundproof doors. Then I quickly turned my computer on, sitting on my comfy leather chair, and as soon as it was online, I opened my email, and to my surprise there was an email from him, from some hours ago. "Oh my God," I beamed.
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From: A.LF
To: P.BG
Sent: Wednesday, 14 Feb 2024, 03:00
Subject: Happy Valentine's Day, love ❤️
I'm calling it my win, love.
It's 6 to 4, who's the loser now?
I'm so anxious to meet you tonight that I couldn't sleep, my heart is racing, and I'm happy like an idiot. Ugh, those last weeks after we talked in Christmas went by so dam slowly, I was counting the days to meet you, and now that's it's come, I can't wait.
I'll probably get into some trouble for skipping the business dinner tonight, since I've gotten my position not too long ago, but so be it, it's worthy. You're worthy.
Fuck, I love you so much, I want to tell you this.
I'm making some tiramisu right now, I couldn't stay put and cooking softens my anxiety, it helps, and this is our dessert, every second of making it reminds me of you.
Which brings me to my last guess of the song that reminds you of me. If I get it wrong, you better tell me tonight, okay? Is it Reminder?
Alright, I forgot to tell you that last time, but I've read all the filthy books you've recommended to me, and added countless notes on them. Really naughty of you, love, but I think this might be my favorite genre, I hope we can read together, share notes, and try those smut scenes together. Seems like I'll have to get a gun for myself, 😏.
It's Wednesday today, now that it's past midnight, I think you're sleeping given how much you told me you overwork yourself, so, you'll probably see this in the morning. Then, have good morning, did you sleep well? I selfishly hope you dreamed with me, because I've certainly been dreaming with you a lot, dreams that got me waking up with a tent in my bed.
I pray you haven't changed your mind, love.
Now that you shared something personal with me, like where you're living, I felt like sharing something with you. My middle name is Timothée. Yes, like the actor, and I used to hate it growing up, so, I'm mainly known by my first name, a name that I love.
There's a place I have in mind for us to dine tonight.
Send me your address later and I'll come get you.
Underwear is optional.
Love you, P.
Yours,
- A ❤️
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Smiling like an idiot at my computer, I ignored Kath's naughty look and quickly typed a reply to him, just so he won't think I ignored him, or changed my mind.
"What did your Prince Charming say to make you smile like that?"
I rolled my eyes, blushing, "Nothing."
"Nothing my cunt," she mocked. "Can't I see?"
"Absolutely not!" I squeaked. "It's private."
"So, he's talking dirty," she grinned like a wolf.
"Kaaaaath," I cried like an annoyed child. "Stop it."
"He probably told you not to use a panty when you meet."
How did she know? "Oh, fuck off, Kath," I growled.
She burst out laughing and sat on her desk at the corner.