I sighed even longer. “What’s Nazzareno doing?” The words were rushed, and I knew why. This was going to be my life, always wondering what he was doing after he walked away from me.
Would he be making babies with her?
Taking her out to eat and shopping—making her smile at the beautiful things he said.
Holding her hand and kissing it when he knew she felt lonely.
The things that would haunt me when he left, would they haunt her too?
Beni looked behind him before he turned toward me. “Taking or making a call.”
I closed my eyes, sinking into the chair, trying to relax, trying not to think about who he was talking to.
It was impossible, and I hated myself for it.
A song came through the speakers, and I opened my eyes. It was a 1990s hit that was probably popular everywhere at the time of release. It was just one of those songs that never quit.
Beni came dancing into the room, singing, “Ice,ice, baby.”
I couldn’t help it. I threw back my head and laughed like he’d stuck his finger in my side and wiggled it.
He seemed to feed off it. He kept dancing, knowing every word to the song.
Movement behind him caught my attention.
Nazzareno stood in the shadows, a death glare in his eyes—aimed at his cousin.
He was making me laugh, and he wasn’t.
Beni noticed. He grinned at Nazzareno, roaring a little, and squeezed his shoulder as he left the room.
Nazzareno took a seat close to me and didn’t move, not until I did.
THIRTY-THREE
AVA
Okay,this was a tough one. I didnotwant to resort back to thinking of movies when something in real life resembled a scene from one of them.
That was Janis’s thing. And even though I couldn’t change everything about myself that was like her, there were certain things she chose to do that I realized were my choice too. But it was so hardnotto think of a scene from one of her favorite movies in this instant.
Because…
This was myPretty Womanmoment, the one all women deserve.
The beauty squad had done everything to enhance what was naturally pretty about me. My eyes popped, winged liner giving them a cat-eyed shape, and my lips were scarlet red. My hair was swept up and done in a French twist, but the shorter strands were lightly curled and framed my face. My gown was white, off-the-shoulder with a plunging sweetheart neckline, and cut low in the back. A piece of fabric was tied around my hips, and it draped as long as the hem, creating an hourglass figure. I wore white elbow-length gloves.
It was a modern-day version of a dress from the 1800s, which seemed to fit, since Teatro di San Carlo is one the oldest opera houses in the world, dating back to the early 1700s.
My accessories, along with my heels, were gold to warm it up some. Including the million-dollar, or more, diamond necklace around my neck.
I ran my gloved fingers softly across it, turning my neck left and right to admire how it glimmered against the soft lights.
My skin pebbled at the memory of Nazzareno setting the cold fire around my neck, his touch warm as he’d secured it. Then he’d kissed the nape of my neck, his mouth lingering, as his eyes turned up and met mine through the mirror.
Soon after, he left me alone to check on our ride for the evening, but his presence floated in the air like his cologne.
I needed a minute to process.
