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My plan to amuse myself--and maybe you, too.

You Decide 2.0--Anna Maria

Chapter One: Anna Maria is Saved from Poor Decision-Making

“Kitten,” his deep voice purred over the phone, “I’ve had a change of plans.  Ralph Lauren booked Annika for the weekend and she can’t make it to St. Barts.  Casimir says we can’t entertain his father without a hostess.  He’s very old school.  I need a pretty girl, stat.”


Being Troy’s personal assistant had included some surprising duties, but this one might have been the oddest.  Was he asking me to pimp for him?


“None of those skanks from marketing, either – I need someone smart.  Do we know anyone who speaks Italian?”

Had he called me “kitten” or “doll” for so long he’d forgotten my name was Anna Maria Capelli?  I waxed the legacy of my Sicilian grandmother off my upper lip every five days, but no facial care could hide the fact that I was one generation away from the Old Country.  Troy finally made the connection.

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I'm supposed to care about money, but I don't. I'm just here to amuse myself, and maybe you. This story is free to a good home!

“Sweet thing!  You could do it!”


“You want… want me to come to St. Barts and – and be your hostess?”  I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest.  Could this be it?  A luxurious beach house, a blazing sunset, a tall rum drink, a loosely-tied sarong – was it finally my turn with Troy?


“I don’t think we can swing the ticket from expenses, though – can you buy your own ticket and I’ll reimburse you later?”


I was suddenly aware of the trim, pretty woman sitting opposite me.  She was looking at me and shaking her head slowly.  I asked Troy to hold and put my hand over the phone.  “I’m sorry – who are you, again?”


“I’m Amy,” she said simply.  “And Anna Maria, you don’t need a ticket to St. Bart’s on your credit card.  You’re already maxed out.  Again.”


“What?”  I was aghast.  Who was this Chanel-clad, impeccably dressed conscience to make me loose my chance?


“Open his expense account.  You know where it is.  That’s right – take a look.  What do you see?”


“Um… just the usual.”


“The usual?  Is that a car payment I see there?”


“What?  Oh – is it?”


“Yes.  And what about that – isn't that the oriental rug you took delivery of last week?  For his condo?”


“Hey – that IS the company…”


“He’s got money in his expense account to get you there.  And he’s going to buy you a new sarong, too.  Now.  Let’s talk about protection from some of the nastier social diseases, and how you’re going to make that snake crawl when he tries to ditch you in the St. Maartin’s airport.  Let’s talk about the true treasure – that charming, shy, attractive Casimir.  What does it matter if he can’t speak much English if you speak Italian?”


“Oh, Amy – thank God you’re here!”





We’ve got a big decision to make right up front, which will determine the genre of this rom-com—so think about what you want for the next twenty or thirty chapters!


A. Amy is a sort of spirit guide—a supernatural element that puts the book into what’s called “speculative fiction.” I’m telling you now that if we decide to go this way, Amy is going to fall for the spirit guide leading Casimir along HIS path.


B. Amy is from the accounting department. She’ll become Anna Maria’s best friend and external brain; she will roll her eyes often and stop Anna Maria from making the typical poor decisions that define the “Bridget-Jones-style rom-coms”…so Anna Maria is really going to have to step up her game to get into messes!


C. Amy is a stranger off her meds who wanders in and out of Anna Maria’s life (and past all sorts of security) to deliver a bizarre assortment of useful and useless advice about life. This would probably push our book into the “women’s fiction” category as the romance with Casimir (or Troy) would probably take a back seat to Amy’s backstory.


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