Chapter 13
Ana’s store is in utter disarray after two hours of try-ons.
As I sit in the floral-print upholstered chair nearest the French doors, I have a full view of the space now cluttered with empty hangers, garments in need of organizing, and bags and bags of clothes that somehow fit.
From skirts that I thought would be far too short to tops I assumed would be far too tight, she chose so many things for me I lost count.
And, while none of it is exactly appropriate for my new job—I can’t exactly clean the house in a mini-skirt—I appreciate it.
My favorite pieces are the dresses. I’ve always been a dress person.
They just make me feel more feminine, more…
beautiful. Maybe there was a part of me that thought if I dressed nicely, Clive would treat me better.
Maybe sometimes it worked. But there was never any cure to his rage.
And, if there was, it certainly wasn’t a piece of clothing.
Not even the gorgeous dress I wear now would’ve stopped him.
I look down and brush my fingers over the blue-and-white fabric.
Since I was wearing a makeshift outfit anyway, Ana has taken it upon herself to give me a makeover of sorts.
The dress she chose for the day is baby blue with large white flowers on it.
It has a sweetheart neckline that accentuates my chest and a tighter bodice which shows off the waist I didn’t even realize I had.
There’s a bow that hides a bit of my stomach and with the help of the fanned-out tea-length skirt, I don’t feel the need to suck anything in or place an unsuspecting hand over my midsection.
The slit up the right leg allows for a pleasant breeze and the ruffled shoulder straps are too cute.
My lips tug into a small smile as I relax into the chair even more.
While the start to our shopping adventure wasn’t the best, it provided a cathartic moment, and things have made a turn for the better.
Several of the looks Ana put together for me had me looking at myself differently.
I almost didn’t recognize myself and I kind of liked it.
Perhaps today was needed, even more than Gio expected.
It feels nice to sit here in a beautiful room in a beautiful dress without listening for those oh-so-familiar footsteps.
All the while, Delilah has been giggling and talking up a storm to the two dogs, who seem to grow on each other as well.
As it all sinks in, I feel more of the tension I’m so used to carrying leave me.
And, as Ana returns from behind the cashier’s counter with a small makeup bag and curling iron, I actually let out a laugh instead of the sigh of dread I thought I’d feel by now.
I’ve never really had a girl friend, and she’s starting to feel like one.
“Do you normally wear much makeup?” Ana asks, hovering over me as she inspects my face.
“Well, I haven’t in a while. But I used to do a bit of foundation and a little mascara.”
“So, no,” Ana says.
I smile and lower my eyes to the floor. “Yeah, I guess not.” After my dad passed, I got into this phase of wearing super dark eyeshadow, practically black, and tons of mascara—waterproof, of course.
It was like a mask to hide my pain. I didn’t want anyone to see me.
Obviously, it didn’t work. But, aside from then, I’ve never really had much use for makeup.
“It’s okay. It’s not like you need it. You have the most piercing blue eyes.
They’re like a magnet.” Ana draws my attention from my thoughts.
“But, perhaps, we could do a few things to make them standout even more.” She pulls an eyeshadow palette out and a pink lipstick, setting them to the side.
“With your fair skin and blonde hair, you’re like a Viking goddess.
I think the cool-toned colors will suit you best.”
“Goddess?” I nearly choke hearing the sentiment.
“My, that’s the first time I’ve heard anything like that.
” She offers me a kind smile and then dots the foundation on my cheeks.
I sit still and allow myself to be her doll, much like I’ve done for Delilah a hundred times.
“Do whatever you like. I could use a change.”
Ana makes quick use of the few makeup products.
And, after adding a few purposeful curls to my hair, she sends me off to take in my reflection.
Once again, I find myself in the dressing room.
Yet, the woman before me is just making her first appearance.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. Shocked, I lift my hands to my cheeks but quickly lower them for fear of messing up Ana’s handiwork.
Just as Ana said, she painted my lips a light shade of pink and created some shadows around my eyes with shades of light brown.
My lashes are long and fanned out with mascara.
My complexion is evened-out with the pale foundation she had on hand.
And my cheeks have a certain glow and warmth to them I’ve never seen before. I look…different.
“How do you like it?” Ana asks, startling me as she pops her head into the room. I jump. “Oh, sorry. Wait. Are you crying?” Her brows furrow just as her attention and mine are drawn to the voices behind her.
“Crying? Darcy’s crying?” Before I can even answer Ana or get rid of the tears I hadn’t even realized were brimming in my eyelids, Gio rips the door to the dressing room open.
I gasp and instinctively back toward the furthest wall of the dressing room to put distance between us.
It’s not that I’m scared of him. At least, I don’t think I am.
But I don’t like feeling crowded and with him and Ana staring at me, blocking the exit, I can feel my anxiety rising.
“Darcy, are you okay?” Gio asks. His voice is filled with an unfamiliar intensity while his face etches with confusion and concern, at least, it appears so with the way his forehead wrinkles and his eyes narrow.
“Mhmm,” I mumble, nodding. To calm myself, I reach for my freshly curled hair and rake my fingers through the long strands.
The motion draws Gio’s attention from my face to, well, everything else.
His dark gaze takes me in from head to toe.
Though, I can’t exactly tell if he’s as pleased with my transformation as I am.
Not that I care. He makes no further comments before backing away and returning to help Damon carry our bags to the Range Rover.
With him gone, Ana steps toward me and offers me her hand. “Come on. We’re just getting started.”
By the time we approach the last store of the day, I’ve lost track of how many hours have passed and how many thousands of dollars we’ve spent.
All I know is we ate lunch a few hours ago and now the sun is sinking.
Given the atrocious heat, I’m thankful. As much as I love my new dress, the fitted bodice accompanied by the Southern humidity makes me feel like I’m suffocating.
Yet, somehow, my makeup hasn’t budged. And the curls Ana added to my hair have handled the busy day nicely.
Speaking of busy, the Range Rover is now packed full of clothes, shoes, and other essentials.
Ana got me set up with my own makeup and hair styling kit.
She even turned Delilah and me on to this company with the most amazing smelling bath products.
Even Gio got in on it and picked him out a set, which then set him and Damon off on a ten-minute conversation about baths versus showers.
I smile to myself as I remember their bickering.
Gio and I have had little time together today, at least, alone time, which has actually been perfect.
I’ve been able to quietly observe him from afar while he’s been distracted by our company.
While my observations do nothing to unearth the enigma that is Gio Moretti—the mysterious, gun-carrying, Black Card-wielding gentleman with a soft spot for strays, Delilah and I included—they have allowed my comfort with him to grow. Perhaps because they’ve humanized him.
He and Damon egg each other on like brothers and the conversations have remained light and humorous, ranging from whose dog is better to wedding talk.
Ana jumps in from time to time too, which reveals how comfortable she is around the two of them, around Gio.
I suppose seeing her and Delilah interact with him has helped me feel a little more at ease. I turn to glance behind me then.
Delilah burned out not long after lunch and she asked Gio to carry her.
It’s surprising to me that she asked him and, even more so, that I gave my permission, but I did.
She’s been half asleep in Gio’s arms ever since.
Looking at her now, she has her head nuzzled in the crook of his neck.
She looks so at ease and I’m so thankful for it—after last night, after the last three weeks, after everything.
I lower my eyes then to Gio’s strong, veiny hand holding her in place.
Then, my gaze drifts up his chest to his neck and finally, to his amber eyes, which are focused entirely on me.
My lips part and I quickly snap my head front-facing just as Ana calls out, “We’re here! ”
As the four of us plus the two dogs enter the cutely decorated, air-conditioned children’s boutique, I let out a sigh of relief, both thankful for the AC and that my portion of today’s try-ons is officially over.
“Welcome in,” the store owner greets us with a friendly smile.
Like all the other places we’ve visited today, we’re the only customers and I’m starting to think it’s not a coincidence, especially given the store signage that lets me know most of these places aren’t even typically open on Sundays.
Did Gio organize an entirely private shopping tour through New Orleans for us? And in one night? Maybe he’s not human.
As my curiosity about him peaks once more, I quickly shove the thoughts from my mind and remind myself of what he said last night.
He said there are certain things he just can’t tell me, and I accepted that truth because I have enough problems and secrets of my own.
I don’t need to bear the weight of his too.
While Ana exchanges pleasantries with the store owner, I head over to Gio and Damon.
Damon plops down on the creamy colored settee, letting loose of all the bags Ana has forced him to carry.
Surprisingly, he hasn’t complained a bit.
He’ll make a good husband. With him settled, Brinkley, the little white dog, jumps up and positions himself in his lap.
Damon lets out a sigh and begins mindlessly petting him while Ru lays down at Gio’s feet, despite him still standing.
The two of us exchange a look and then I direct my attention to Delilah.
“Sweetie.” I rub my hand slowly up and down her back to wake her.
“Honey, I think this store is for you.” Feeling Gio’s gaze on me, I suck in air and lower my eyes to our feet as Delilah clings to sleep.
I’m not sure I’ve ever been this close to him before, well, aside from when he tried to stop me from leaving the restaurant last night, and when I awoke in his arms after those men tried to, and when he carried me to bed.
As all the memories of the last twenty-four hours flood me, I take a step back just as I feel my cheeks flush and my fingers begin to tremble.
“How old is she? I can pull some basics for you. That way, the three of you can just focus on the fun stuff,” the store owner says then. Thankful for the distraction, I turn toward her and take a deep breath.
“She’s five, and that would be great.” The shop owner gives me a warm smile and then gets to work picking out Delilah some underwear, pajamas, and casual play clothes.
“Ooo, we are definitely trying that,” Ana says then as she moves toward a rack of pink, frilly dresses.
I would say I’m not sure that’s Delilah’s style, but the truth is, I don’t know what Delilah’s style is.
It’s not like we had a reason to get all dolled up in Montana and with her enjoying playing outside so much, shorts and t-shirts or little jeans usually sufficed.
“Getting ideas, are we?” Damon asks her as he watches her sort through the little girl’s clothes.
“No, but you are, and you better calm your horses,” she says then, giving him a look of warning.
He laughs and grins mischievously. “It’s not my horses that need calming,” he mumbles under his breath.
“What’s that?” She asks, turning back to him with raised brows.
“Nothing, my love.”
“Mhmm.”
I smile, watching the two of them. I’m not sure of their ages or how long they’ve been together.
But I suppose none of those things truly matters when it comes to kids and one’s readiness to have them.
When it happens, you make it work, that is, if you choose to.
I’m a twenty-five-year-old mother and I wasn’t the least bit ready when I found myself pregnant with Delilah.
And I had no idea what it meant to be a wife when Clive proposed.
Although, I suppose he was never really looking for a wife, was he?
I take a deep breath then and return my attention to Delilah, who I find wiping the sleep from her eyes in Gio’s arms.
“Mommy?” she asks.
“I’m here, sweetie. I’m right here.” I place a reassuring hand on her back and maneuver her out of Gio’s arms and into mine.
During the exchange, Gio’s hand brushes against the side of my boob, given our height difference.
The unexpected touch doesn’t go unnoticed—by my brain or body—though I do my best to ignore it as I finish pulling Delilah into my arms.
“Sorry,” he says softly once I’ve got her settled.
My eyes flick to his and I hesitate to respond as my brain and body decide whether to panic.
After a few moments of locked eye contact, I feel my heart rate slow and the tightness in my stomach release.
Finally, I say, “It was an accident.” With that, I quickly turn and leave him to join Ana, who already has an armful of items I fear Delilah is far too tired to even consider.