Page 28 of Crowned in Sin
He takes one more turn, comes to a stop in front of a boutique in Soho, and kills the engine. “Don’t go prying too hard into your husband’s past. You might not like what you find.”
When I was a little girl,I always dreamed about the day I might earn enough money to shop at a boutique where there aren’t any price tags, because if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.
But what sets this boutique apart is that there are only mannequins, and no rows of dresses for me to look or try out.
Not that it makes it feel any less surreal.
“Good morning, Mrs. D’Ambrosio.” A young woman in a fitted black dress who’s probably not that much older than me approaches as soon as I walk in. “We’ve been expecting your arrival. Would you care for something to drink? Water? Coffee? Champagne, perhaps?”
“Oh.” I blink at the unexpected offers. “Water will be fine.”
“It’s her first time, Sophie.” Anastasio winks at her. “She’ll get used to it. But I’ll take a champagne if you’re feeling generous.”
“Is Mr. D’Ambrosio aware that you’re drinking on the job, Stas?”
He shakes his hair out of his eyes, laughing. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
Sophie’s face reddens slightly. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”
As she walks away, I notice Anastasio following her ass with his eyes. I can’t help but feel how absurd all of this is, and wonder if Sophie knows just what Anastasio really is. They certainly seem familiar enough.
“I take it this isn’t the first time you brought a woman for Nico here?”
“Actually, it is,” he replies as he walks down the rows. “Usually I like to come alone. Do a little window shopping. Sample some goods.”
“By all means, don’t let me stop you from doing what you do best.”
“You know,” he muses. “You’re a lot more fun than I thought you’d be.”
“That’s because I’m not being dragged unwillingly from one place to another.”
Before he can respond, Sophie returns with a glass of water for me and a flute of champagne for him accompanied with a coy blushing smile. He picks up the glass and flashes her a toothy grin in return, sending the blush higher up on her face.
“I’ll be by the door,” he says to me. “Sky’s the limit, Mrs. D’Ambrosio. Make him proud.”
“So,” I start haltingly as Anastasio takes his position by the door. “How does this all work? All I see are just dresses on mannequins. Nothing for me to try on.”
“We start by taking your measurements, and then you tell us the exact styles that you want. And if you see anything on the mannequins that you like, we can make the immediate alterations to fit you.”
“Oh.” Trepidation creeps into my heart.
I wasn’t expecting that. The truth is, as much as I want to shop at a place like this, I don’t actually know what to say now that I’mhere. And I get the funny feeling that I’m being judged right now somehow.
Sophie, sensing my discomfort, offers me a reassuring smile. "Don't be nervous if you’re having trouble coming up with something. I can walk you through the process before we take your measurements, like what kind of an occasion you’re dressing for.”
That surprises me. “My husband didn’t tell you?”
“He did not,” she replies. “All he said was to make you happy. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
Huh. My teeth find my lower lip again as I take in the full meaning of what Sophie says. Somehow, the idea that Nico wants to make me happy has never really crossed my mind. But as soon as I think about being happy, a different thought slithers into my mind, and guilt splashes me like a bucket of ice water.
I’m standing in a boutique about to have a custom dress made when I have no idea about just how Mom is doing–if she’s even alive.
And the thing about guilt is that once you feel it, it doesn’t ever go away.
Sophie looks at me, her smile still perfect and fixed on her face, and I’m forced to match her energy.
“I want something that’ll make a statement,” I say. “Something that’ll turn heads.”
