Page 59 of Boss of the Year

A surprisingly familiar face grinned. “Hey, Marie. Welcome to Brazil.”

I balked. “Robbie Esposito?”

Robbie Esposito had graduated from Belmont High two years before I had. Back then, he was the scrawny kid who sat at my lunch table with the other “losers” and tried his best not to get bullied. Now, he’d cleaned up, bulked up, and looked like he could take on any of those pursuers. On a catwalk, anyway.

I wasn’t the only one who had a makeover since high school.

“Marie Zola? Is that you?” He took my suitcase and escorted me to a car waiting a few feet away. “I knew the name but didn’t realize it was the same person.”

“Are you Lucas’s assistant now?”

Robbie nodded. “He poached me from the mayor’s office last year when Lynette retired. Sweet gig, huh? We get to travel and do what we want as long as he makes his appointments, always has cell service, and gets his haircuts on time.”

He opened the back door of the car for me to get in, then slid in beside me. In a matter of moments, we were on our way.

Fifteen minutes of conversation told me that Robbie Esposito had grown from that scrawny theater kid into the kind of person who could arrange a five-star dinner in the Amazon rainforest with two hours’ notice. He was also as nice as ever. By the time the city drew into view, we were fast friends.

“Dare I ask what Lucas is really like as a boss?” I teased.

Robbie brow lifted. “I’d think you would know more than me. I’ve only been working for him for six months, but you’ve been with the family for a million years, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“I’m his assistant, babe. Who do you think writes the checks he signs for you?”

That I was paid through electronic deposit apparently didn’t matter.

I looked out the window as the city raced into view. I was no stranger to big cities, but São Paulo sprawled in a way New York never really did. Its massive buildings soared from the boundaries of farmland and rainforest and into the sky, piercing the landscape with light and excitement.

Robbie continued to rattle on about his job, which for a trip like this meant arriving at each destination on this tour a day ahead of Lucas and me to ensure our accommodations, equipment, and schedules were set. At home, he usually workedout of Lucas’s office and apartment near Wall Street, but I’d probably see him more often at the Lyonses’ house once we got back from London.

“Why is that?” I wondered.

Robbie shrugged. “Not sure. Last week he told me he wanted to stay in Westchester more often, so he had the housekeeper assign me one of the staff rooms for late nights.”

The rest of the drive was mostly palm trees and polished glass, chopped every so often by the appearance of poorer neighborhoods that consisted of housing and apartments scraped together with metal, concrete, and open wires that even in the night couldn’t mask.

“When you go out, check your map,” Robbie advised. “Or better yet, use Fabiano here.”

Up front, the driver waved.

“Won’t Lucas need him?”

Robbie shook his head. “No, he has his own driver, and I’ll typically be with Lucas during meetings. You’ll have your own driver no matter where we go, so you can do the grocery shopping and whatever else you want to do. Thursday will be a good day to visit the beach, if you’re into that, since Lucas will have lunch meetings. It’s a solid two or more hours each way, so give yourself plenty of time.”

I nodded, though the idea of venturing out in this strange city terrified me. Even in Paris, it had taken me four solid months, when I’d met Louis, before I’d worked up the courage to venture beyond the Sixth Arrondissement. I wished I were the type of person who could be dropped in a strange place and feel perfectly at ease, but I just wasn’t the type. Paris was and probably would always be the biggest adventure I’d ever experience.

Even now, a continent away, I could feel my sisters’ disappointment.

So much for seizing the day.

“We’re staying in Itaim Bibi,” Robbie said as the car pulled up in front of a building that looked more like a museum than a residence. “Super central. Very posh. Come on, Fabiano will bring up your bags.”

I followed Robbie through a lobby made of glass and marble and into a private elevator at the back, where he pressed in a code that took us to the penthouse. Of course.

“Where…where are you and I staying?” I asked.

Again, Robbie gave me a strange look. “Didn’t Lucas tell you? I have a room downstairs, but…”