Scarlett met his eye. “She’d be opposed to a Gucci purse.”
Carmen gave her a strange look. Dario threw back his head and laughed. It was times like these that I felt I lived three lives. The one I shared with my wife. The one I had on the rig, and all of the time I missed with her. The third life I was attempting to kill, but it refused to die.
“That is good. It is settled then.” Dario got down on one knee. “You will still have me, Carmen.”
Carmen nodded, taking his hand. “Yeah.”
“Christ,” Tito said sharply.
“Did he take a blow to the head?” Donato mumbled to himself. “She is lovely, but so soon?”
Dario kissed Carmen’s hand. They gazed at each other, probably trying to find something other than physical attraction to seal their upcoming vows, something close to substance.
“What is your last name, Carmen?” Scarlett asked.
“Oh!” Carmen looked up and smiled at Scarlett. “Fuentes.”
“Make each other happy, Dario Fausti and Carmen Fuentes.” Scarlett hugged them both.
Somewhere in the distance Rocco growled. Carmen flinched. Scarlett glanced at her, her brows lowered in concern.
I gave my wife thirty minutes, and then we were going shopping. While she got ready, I had a word with Tito and Donato.
* * *
Snow seemed to enchant Scarlett. No matter how many times she’d seen it, the sight of it still made her eyes bright, her cheeks soft pink, her lips bright red. Her childlike innocence would come alive.
This same energy seemed to move through our entire entourage. What I thought would be an evening with my wife turned out to be a day for the masses to stick together. Scarlett’s idea of Christmas shopping spread like wildfire. Everyone needed something for someone else. What better opportunity to buy gifts that you couldn’t find in Italy?
Scarlett sat next to me on the streetcar, huddled close, lost to her own thoughts, while our group laughed and muttered around us.
The snow we experienced in Louisiana usually didn’t stick. It fell, but melted not long after experiencing its first touch of the earth. This time it stuck, coating everything in a layer of pure white.
A miracle,some said.A once in a ten-year occurrence,others said.An omen,I heard an older man mutter to Tito.
The streetcar rocked, a wreath of green stuck to the window, framed by ice. We were headed to Canal Street, to Giuseppe’s shop, or as most people called him, the Music Keeper. Giuseppe was the man who had hand-carved and assembled Scarlett’s music box. She was curious to meet him, and him her. He was somewhat of a recluse, a mystery himself. Before he would agree to one of his custom-made creations, he requested a meeting first. The girl who worked for him, Selah, usually set these up. It seemed casual on the outside, but when I had met with him, I could feel the man digging around in my heart, as if he took a piece of it to carve into the music box.
From what I learned from Selah, he kept records of the music boxes, and only so many people had them. The others, the ones he created out of his own fantasies, were for sale, but the custom-made creations were stored in a back room, behind Giuseppe’s workroom.
“That’s special,” Scarlett said after I explained it to her again. I didn’t go into much detail the last time we had discussed it. “It’s a part of me, of us. I can’t wait to tell him.”
Giuseppe was enchanted with her. I knew he would be. After spending an adequate amount of time in his shop, our group buying him out, we ventured to other places, agreeing that dinner would be our last stop before home. We had to pack for our flight back to Italy.
Scarlett’s eyes grew curious when we strolled past an upscale lingerie place. She went inside, pulling me along with her. Donato and a few of his men stood close to the entrance, eyes scanning the place every so often. Dario stood with them, but he encouraged Carmen to find items for herself.
The sales ladies were eager to help, throwing this and that at them. Scarlett knew what she was after, though, and we disappeared into a fitting room that resembled a sensuous room in Paris.
She modeled a few of them for me. “What about this one?” She craned her neck to look behind her. There was nothing there but fine bare ass.
I made a twirling motion with my finger. She went around slowly, giving me a gorgeous show.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice a bit hoarse. “That one. All of them. Get all of them.”
Her eyes lowered, she bit her lip, and then she sauntered over, running her hands up and down my chest. Coming in closer, she whispered in my ear what she wanted me to do to her in the fitting room. Her light perfume drifted over me, her scent as sensual as her flawless skin.
She backed up, looking me over. “You seem…uneasy. Perhaps distracted. You’ve been that way since this morning.”
I nodded. “I have a lot on my mind.”
