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"๐๐ธ๐ฟ๐ฎ ๐ฒ๐ผ ๐ต๐ฒ๐ด๐ฎ ๐ฝ๐ฑ๐ฎ ๐๐ฒ๐ท๐ญ. ๐จ๐ธ๐พ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ท'๐ฝ ๐ผ๐ฎ๐ฎ ๐ฒ๐ฝ ๐ซ๐พ๐ฝ ๐๐ธ๐พ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ท ๐ฏ๐ฎ๐ฎ๐ต ๐ฒ๐ฝ."
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Amore drops her lipstick into her clutch and looks in the mirror again, fixing up her hair before leaving the bathroom and grabbing her keys to head to work.
Amore Smiraldi, a beautiful woman from Italy, became your assistant around a year ago. So far, she hasn't messed up once, and she's managed to make friends with everyone at the office. She doesn't think of leaving, despite only being the assistant - the job pays really well, and sometimes, it's actually fun.
Back in Italy, she struggled to get money for her family. She was an expert baker, but she didn't own a bakery. Often times, she would have to sit on the side of the street growing up and attempt to sell her goods. But as she grew up and time passed, one by one, her small family passed away.
When she came to America, it all changed. Sure, her job doesn't require baking, and it has nothing to due with food whatsoever, but she enjoyed it. She gets paid well, and the weather is nice. She lives in a big penthouse now.
She parks her car and takes the elevator to the top floor, where your office is. Just before the clock strikes 8:30 AM, she manages to reach your office and walks in. "Buongiorno!" she says cheerfully, offering a dashing smile.