CHAPTER 34
TRACY
Everyone was finally seated at the exquisitely arranged table. There was a large centerpiece with Sicilian Honey Lilies, which were Tammy’s favorite flower, and crystal bowls with floating lilies were placed strategically about the entire table. The tablecloth was a crisp white, and the napkins were a soft shade of lilac.
Tracy was reading the itinerary. The welcome dinner was first, and a beach party was to be held the next day.
“Gianni, I can't believe you allowed someone else do the cooking,” Amy commented.
“Young lady, I am not here to work. I am a guest. But they chose well. Chef Gellar is brilliant.”
“You meanyouchose well,” Luca corrected.
“Who knows better than me?”
“Nobody, baby. Nobody can touch you in the kitchen,” Natasha gushed.
Gianni smiled sweetly at Natasha, and big, bad Gianni was actually blushing.
“Awwww,” was sang collectively across the table.
Tammy looked around the room. The entire Storm and Savelli families were present. Even Mary and Jean-Paul were able to make it in time for dinner. Their flight from Paris was delayed, so they arrived in Morocco too late to take the yacht with the rest of the family. Jack had sent the yacht back to the coast to pick them up. When they arrived, they couldn't stop talking about Jack’s enormous yacht.
Tracy looked around and noticed that everyone was smiling. For a family that had been through so much, they were never lacking for love and support for one another. And they certainly knew how to have fun. They truly appreciated the good times.
“My son looks good on you. You look beautiful, cara,” Francis whispered in her ear.
Tracy turned to face Francis. He was grinning just enough for Tracy to get a glimpse of his perfect white teeth. She placed her hand to his jaw and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was brief but tender.
“Thank you,” she whispered in return.
Francis must have known that Tracy needed to hear that from him. She must have tried on at least five outfits before deciding on an emerald green, wrap dress that tied at the waist. Nothing seemed to fit the way that she wanted it to. Tracy understood that her body was changing, but the dresses she’d tried on were dresses she bought for her new, pregnant body.
Body issues were not new to Tracy. She had always been curvier than most, and her mother never, ever let her forget it. Her mother’s constant scrutiny about her weight had been a long-standing bone of contention. Tracy knew that her mother had no intention of hurting her feelings, but she did. It was when she left her parents’ house that she realized she wasn't fat, like her mom insisted, but more of the bombshell type. But even that came with its own set of problems. The main problem was being the object of the immature man’s sexual desires, who seemed only to pursue her because of fantasies of the video vixen. Getting someone to take Tracy seriously seemed next to impossible.
For so many years, Tracy hid. She hid her so-called obesity from her mom and her video booty from the men. It wasn't until Victoria talked her into modeling for men’s magazines that Tracy began to feel comfortable in her own skin. Victoria promised that it would be empowering, and eliminate her body issues. And for the most part, it did. But now that her body was changing, Tracy was finding herself more and more self-conscious. She would rather look obviously pregnant, or not pregnant at all. It was the stage in between that bothered her. The “is she pregnant or fat” stage had her feeling less than beautiful. But she had to admit that the way Francis looked at her, made her feel complete. Even though he often seemed to command the attention of every straight woman in any room, his eyes made love to only her, as if no one else existed. Even as his family engaged themselves in lively adult conversation, she had his undivided attention.
“I have a gift for you,” Francis told her.
Before she could respond, a server placed an iced saucer of raw, Blue Point oysters in front of her. Francis picked up the appetizer and handed it back to the server.
“She can't eat this. She’s pregnant.”
The server pulled the saucer away as if it were a plate of cocaine. “I am so sorry, sir. I didn't know. Madame is so petite,” the server groveled.
Yeah, okay, petite, Tracy thought to herself. She turned to Francis and smiled. “It’s the mercury. How did you know?”
“I read a book. It’s called,What to Expect When You’re Expecting.”
Tracy’s breath hitched. Just the thought that he was taking such an interest in her pregnancy, and the birth of their child, caused her eyes to water. She shouldn't have been shocked. Francis wasn't the type of man to enter anything without being fully prepared.
“Baby, I’ve been reading the same book,” Tracy admitted.
“Baby? I’m a baby?” Francis asked with knitted brows.
“It’s an American thing,” Tracy giggled. “You’re my baby.”
“Oh… si….si,” Francis acknowledged with a super sexy grin.
