Chapter Twenty-six
NINA
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
The more I thought about why I was in New York, the more undeserving I felt. I knew I’d worked hard to get here, but a voice in me whispered it still wasn’t enough or that I would fail. The doubt clung to me, dulling the excitement I should have felt.
I sat in the backseat, fidgeting with the bracelet my nonna gave me before she passed, and remembered her words: “Life’s toughest challenges are often the most rewarding. Non arrendersi mai, mia cara.44” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to absorb her strength.
The city buzzed around me, a reminder that life was bigger than my doubts. Every street seemed to whisper possibility, urging me forward.
Traffic delayed us two hours, but when we finally reached the Celestine Grand Hotel, the sleek glass tower reflected Manhattan’s energy, softened by touches of greenery. Inside, cool air washed over us, a welcome escape from the noise.
“We have rooms under Nina Moretti,” I said, handing over my ID.
The receptionist smiled. “Top-floor suite. Enjoy your stay.”
Exhausted, Inaya and I rode the elevator up. The suite felt more like a luxury apartment—two bedrooms, floor-to-ceiling windows, a kitchenette, and sweeping city views. Plush king beds promised real rest at last.
After settling in, Inaya left to meet a friend, while I headed to Dillon’s penthouse to reconnect with my cousins. The space glowed with modern art, soft furnishings, and a skyline that stole my breath.
“Nina!” Mara squealed, setting her baby in his bassinet before rushing over to greet me. “It’s been so long. Come stai?45”
I melted into her hug, savoring the familiar warmth of her embrace. “Sto bene.46 How about you?”
“I’m tired but good,” Mara replied with a smile.
“Nina,” Dillon greeted in his low, smooth voice. “You look well. How have you been?”
I leaned back on the sofa, stifling a yawn. “I’m doing alright. Looking forward to your birthday?”
Dillon shrugged, pouring himself a glass of scotch. “I suppose I’m past the age of excitement, but I am looking forward to my gala. I hope you’ll be attending?”
“I’ll be there,” I replied with a nod. “I even made a dress for the occasion.”
“Perfect,” he said. “Does Ronan know you’re here?”
I gulped, feeling a rush of heat to my cheeks at Dillon’s mention. “No.”
His expressions remained stoic as he took another sip of his drink. “Alrig—”
“Babe,” I heard a feminine voice call out, and I looked over at Mara, completely shocked at who it could be.
Dillon swiftly spun around on the sofa, and a gorgeous girl emerged, her brown curls in an afro and wearing what I assumed to be one of Dillon’s button-ups.
“Precious,” I heard him call out, a smile apparent on his face.
This felt like I was in a dream. Did I just see mio cugino47 smile at a woman? And moreover, did I see a woman in his house? In his clothes?
“Uh, Mara,” I whispered.
She looked at me and chuckled, “You missed a lot.”
“I can see that,” I whispered back.
“I was wo—oh, hi,” she said as our eyes met.
“Introductions are in order, I presume,” Dillon announced as he gestured for her to come closer, and she did, taking a seat on his lap as his hands securely wrapped around her waist.
I definitely missed a ton because this couldn’t be the same cousin who I knew had forever sworn off women after his last marriage.
“Nina, meet Azzaria, my girlfriend,” he introduced, “And Azzaria, meet Nina, my cousin.”
She smiled at me, her brown eyes lighting up. “Nina, it’s so nice to meet you,” she exclaimed.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Azzaria,” I responded chirpily.
She sat down with us for a while longer until she said her goodbyes and went back to the bedroom.
“It’s either this isn’t real, or you’ve been doing a great job at hiding it from the media because I haven’t seen one tabloid with you and her,” I blurted.
A rather pleasant smile appeared on his face. “The latter, but one day we’ll get into that. Speaking of tabloids, though, I see you all over, and I hear your name quite often when I go out.”
My cheeks reddened, and a wave of euphoria hit me. Dillon was a person of high stature. He had the best of everything and a wealth that seemed insurmountable, so when he told me that, the pride kicked in.
“It’s true. You’ve been killing it. Your name keeps popping up on Vogue,” Mara chimed in, her admiration clear. “Showing up everywhere fashion is covered. It sucked I couldn’t be at your show to see it live, but I watched the streaming in the hospital.”
I chuckled, placing a hand on her thigh, grateful for their support always. “Hard work pays off.”
Dillon nodded in agreement, pouring me a glass of scotch as well. “It certainly does.”
We spent the next hour slipping back into each other like no time had passed at all.
“Do you remember that summer at Nonna’s?” Mara laughed, tucking her legs beneath her on the couch. “When Dillon swore he was gonna run away because she made him eat callaloo?”
Dillon scoffed from across the room. “That’s not how it happened.”
“That’s exactly how it happened,” I said, laughing. “You acted like you were being poisoned.”
“I was,” he muttered, grabbing his phone as it buzzed. “Excuse me for a second.”
He stepped away, his voice fading as he answered, leaving Mara and me alone in a quieter pocket of the room.
She looked at me then, softer this time. “I miss this, you know.”
“Me too.”
Her eyes drifted, like she was somewhere else for a second. “I’ve been thinking… I really want to visit Italy again.” She smiled, but there was something deeper behind it. “I wanna take Isaiah to explore.”
“You should,” I said instantly. “You’d love it. It’s slower there, but in a good way.”
“Exactly,” she said, leaning forward. “I miss the food too.”
Dillon’s voice carried faintly from the other room, still on his call, and Mara shook her head with a small laugh. “Some things never change.”
“Yeah,” I smiled. “Including him disappearing mid-conversation.”
By the time Dillon came back, we were already deep into another story, laughing like we hadn’t missed years in between.
Eventually, I glanced at the time and sighed. “I should probably head out.”
“Already?” Mara frowned.
“Yeah. Busy days ahead. I’ll see you guys soon, yeah?”
“Don’t make it too long this time,” Mara said, pulling me into a quick hug.
“I won’t.”
I headed out, the warmth of them with me, and made my way to the meeting at Eminence.
“Welcome, Nina,” greeted Julia, extending a firm handshake. “We’re thrilled to have you here. Is everything set for your boutique hunting?”
We dove into the details, brought our lawyers into the conversation, and finalized everything.
“Perfect,” I said, a sense of accomplishment flooding through me as I handed over the signed contract. “Giulia will be in touch for the final contract signing.”
Julia nodded approvingly. “Excellent. We’re excited to start our partnership with you.”
After the meeting, I left feeling motivated and got back to the hotel.
I settled onto the plush bed in my suite with my laptop, researching potential neighborhoods for my boutique.
Hours flew by as I immersed myself in the possibilities.
Eventually, fatigue caught up with me, and I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke, sunlight filled the room, and I realized it was late evening. I slept longer than I intended. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sat up, feeling refreshed and ready to plan my next move in this vibrant city.
“This better be worth our money,” Inaya remarked as we entered Peak NYC for dinner, and I rolled my eyes. After about an hour of debating, we decided to make the most of our two weeks and dine out at a fancy restaurant.
“My cousin recommended it, so I’m pretty sure it’s up to scratch.”
A live pianist played softly, adding sophistication to the upscale vibe as the staff, dressed in sharp uniforms, welcomed us with genuine smiles and led us to a cozy table by the window. The waitress took our orders—seafood salad for me and chicken pasta for Inaya.
“You remember that line we had designed for Shukr Clothing last year? I think it was?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” I replied, curiosity piqued. “Why?” I took a sip of my wine, savoring the taste as memories flooded back.
I remember that design like it was yesterday. Inaya was the whole reason we got that deal, and it was so heartfelt for her, as it explored modest clothing for Islamic men, women, and children.
“We got an email from them asking us to enter into a one-year contract to design more clothes. I forgot to mention it earlier.”
I almost choked as she revealed the news. “You’re joking?” I whispered, my voice barely audible, disbelief etched on my face.
“It’s your year, Nina,” she assured, her confidence unwavering.
“We’re definitely going to have to expand our team because the small unit of us back home can’t manage all these projects.”
She leaned back into the chair, a relaxed smile playing on her lips. “All will be well, and we technically are expanding. Once we get back, we’ll make a calendar of everything and see what we can manage and what we can’t. Deal?”
I nodded as the waiter approached with our food. “Deal.”
The sudden amount of success we were receiving had me in a tailspin. While I should have felt exhilaration, all I could think about was how undeserving I felt. Did I have the talent and capability to sustain this momentum?
Impostorism whispered doubts into my ear, making me second-guess every achievement, every praise. It was as if at any moment, someone would point out I was a fraud, undeserving of all this recognition. The fear gnawed at me, almost making me choke on this delicious salad.
What if I let my clients down?
What if I couldn’t deliver?
The pressure felt overwhelming, but I had to push through. I had to believe in myself as much as everyone else believed in me.