by Joy, Melita
Not much of a shopper Leilani found the experience draining. The owner of the boutique, Rita, was a friend of the Favalli family. She was petite, and Leilani would be surprised if she were five feet tall heeled. What she lacked in stature, she made up for in bite. Looking down her uplifted nose she sized Leilani up and marched her into the dressing room, and a room it was not some cramped curtained cubicle. Surprisingly under the ministrations of the woman Leilani found she was trying on clothes that not only fit but flattered.
“I thought I was supposed to be buying a dress for the ball tonight. These clothes are lovely, but I’m not sure that they are suitable for this evening.”
Rita stopped and almost laughed. “My dear, the ball dresses will be arriving here shortly for you to choose. Firstly we are working on your everyday wardrobe. As a Favalli, it will no longer do for you to be wandering the streets, looking like you need a handout.” With that biting assessment, she turned to add more items to the growing pile that Leilani was expected to try on.
Glancing at the time, she tried the rest of the clothes on in double time. Then came the ball gowns and Leilani truly felt overwhelmed amongst the sea of fabric, lace, feathers and sequins. She spotted a pale blue ruffled gown and reached for it, receiving a slap for her efforts.
“Not that one, the dress has far too much volume. You will look like a tea cosy,” admonished Rita. Instead, an alluring Duchess satin gown was presented to her. The sweetheart cut daringly reached down towards her belly button. The material nipped together between her breasts, again an inch or so below and then one final time. A slivered braid of pale skin appeared between the crushed diamanté jewel encrusted bodice. The material fit snuggly, inching her waist and tummy in and then falling in twisted drapes. It was adorned with a light sprinkling of pearls and crystals down to the floor.
“I don’t feel comfortable wearing this,” Leilani attempted to unhook the fastenings.
“Nonsense, with your hair and make-up done you will find this dress more than adequate. I suggest you eat a light lunch and pick sparingly during the evening. You will wear this dress for your fiancé’s pleasure and not your comforts.”
If Leilani had misgivings about turning up in such a provocative dress, there was scant time to dwell on it. Rita whisked her out the store and urged her on with her schedule. If Leilani were to see Anselmo then she would have to skip lunch, there was no time for both, and he was her priority. The items at the store would all be taken care of, and the ballgown would be at the beauty salon waiting for her to wear after her hair and makeup were complete.
She raced up to the familiar building, entered and came out an hour later with a smile on her face. She knew he wouldn’t let her down, had a strong sense of it the moment she met him. He had a dependable aura about him and for the first time in her life she felt that she was able to be truly honest about whom she was. Even though she was about to marry Renato she wouldn’t let that get in the way. She deserved to find happiness. With hope blossoming, she raced back to meet the driver. Hopefully, he wouldn’t get too suspicious as she was running just a little late, and she still had shoes, hair and make-up to go. This day felt like it would never end.
The room was filling up with guests, and his patience was wearing thin. He always found these kinds of events tedious and hoped that with training his wife to be would be able to work alongside him and share some of the load. He knew that she would probably never be that kind of woman. To know how to deal with the people he consorted with, she had to have been brought up in its circle. Businessmen, wanting his buy-in, their wives wanting to relieve their boredom with him, not to mention the many others who were all looking for their piece of success by riding on his shirt tail.
He was not above helping others in need. He just felt strongly against freeloaders who weren’t willing to work to get to the top.
“Um, Renato, sorry I’m late,” he heard the whisper, her uncertainty and he turned his eyes towards her. He could not connect that this goddess in front of him was his fiancée. His eyes trailed up a gown fit for a queen in royal blue, dusted with jewels and pearls. That waist, it was tiny, a waist made to fit in the span of his hands. Good god, her pale skin was visible in a snaking pattern from her stomach to her breasts, and those breasts, he couldn’t figure out why she had been hiding those luscious swells. He wanted to reach forward and unclasp them, let them spill free.
Her hair was swept up revealing her slender neck and ears. Shiny blonde curls protruded from her swept up style, and he wanted to release them to feel if they were as soft as they looked. Her face though was the most surprising. Make-up was subtle but perfect. Her lips glistened rosy and dewy and her eyes, those grey-blue eyes were bluer than usual framed perfectly with long thick lashes. Renato was not one to do a double take but in this instance, “Leilani?”
“Yes,” she said nervously.
He wanted to tell her that she looked sensational. He wanted to put her at ease. The news from Savino stopped him in his tracks. So she scrubbed up better than he anticipated. That didn’t change a thing. He still needed an obedient, faithful wife.
“You look good. Come with me,” and he led the way back to the main house and his office. “Here, put these on, they will suit the dress.”
Leilani opened up the jewellery box and found a pair of diamond and pearl earrings that indeed even to her untrained eye matched the ball gown perfectly. Nervously she put them on while he stood glaring at her. He briefed her on the guests of importance and advised that she should put on her best performance. “For one I want you to stop looking at me like I’m your executor. You are to be my wife; surely you can feign an adoring glance now and then?”
“You don’t need to keep reminding me that I’m to be your wife. How could I possibly forget with you shoving it down my throat the way that you do. I’m nothing more than a chess piece to be moved around in whatever direction you see fit. You treat me like this then you expect me to cast adoring looks your way?”
“Looks like this transformation gave you a confidence boost after all. Just remember that there are rules Leilani, and I won’t be made a fool of.”
“What are you talking about now? If you have something to say then just say it.”
“If you are thinking of entering this marriage with a lover in tow you are mistaken. I will have a loyal, faithful wife, are we clear?” he all but growled.
Leilani looked at his face. He was dead serious. Who on earth did he think she would be having an affair with and what a laugh, “You are worried about me being unfaithful? What about you? Is it too much for me to expect my husband also to be monogamous?”
Renato clamped his lips shut and gritted, “We’ll discuss this later. Right now we have guests that require our attention. Just ensure you remember to direct your flirting towards me and the night might even turn out to be half pleasant,” he took her hand and led her back out to the makeshift ballroom.
She should have been impressed with the portable building erected on the land in the space of a day. While she was getting transformed, it seemed a team of workers had created some miracles of their own. Under normal circumstances, she might have asked how it was possible and take the time to admire the room and all the beautiful people in attendance. It wasn’t normal circumstances. Leilani’s hand was imprisoned in Renato’s steely grip. He pushed her into introductions with countless men whose eyes never rose past her chest and stunning women without warmth or friendliness in their eyes unless of course they were gazing at her fiancé. She saw it all, the batting eyelashes, the demure looks, the outright staring.
Some of the women were bold and brazen in a way she could never hope to be. She noticed it all. The light touches on his arm, the firm grips and the kisses on the cheek that landed awfully close to his lips. Throughout the evening, his grip kept her hand in his possession, and she slowly grew comfortable with the steady pressure and the warmth they emanated. She doubted she could get used to the excited frissons of the excitement
occurring every time he stroked his thumb across the inside of her wrist. She was baffled by her physical reaction. Renato could never provide the type of love she desired from a relationship. He was cold and calculated and had not one shred of love or desire for her. This hand holding was purely for show, and she had better get a grip. She thought of Anselmo and their earlier discussion. Renato was a means to an end. She knew that now and as ruthlessly as he was using her she would do the same. Leilani would play her part and work out a way to progress her plan.
Renato wanted the night to be over. He no longer wanted to play host in fact he would be happy if he could avoid ever having to introduce her to another man again. His fiancée had smashed through her dowdy chrysalis and emerged a breathtaking woman, his woman. He wondered what other surprises she had in store for him. Up till this point, he had not once fantasised about his Leilani. Until she walked into the ball and stirred him like no other had before. His reaction had been immediate and if he hadn’t taken control of the situation he could have easily walked around in embarrassment for the rest of the night as his physical reaction was surely undeniable.
Savino’s findings certainly helped to put a dampener on his libido, and he would do well to remember that Leilani for all of her butterfly attraction was still a predictable woman. Perhaps dressing like she did was part of her game. Most men wouldn’t believe her capable of affairs as she normally didn’t dress the part of a seductress. Renato was not most men and thanks to his head of security he was completely aware of her capability. It appeared that she was her mother’s daughter after all. He was not bothered by her previous experience in the bedroom. In this day and age, one did not expect a virginal bride and he had no requirement in that regard. He was undeniably masculine, dominant and Italian with a reputation to heal.
Vittorio had demanded that he clean up his playboy image for the sake of the business. Although Renato was now well and truly wealthy in his own right, he still wished to please the man. He had worked hard with Vittorio throughout the years and was not about to relinquish what he’d always believed would be entirely his. His marriage to Leilani was one of the major steps in ensuring his entitlement. He would not have any of it jeopardized by a straying wife and a media frenzied scandal.
Leilani disengaged his hand, and he turned his attention to her.
“I just need to go back up to the house. I ah need to use the ladies.”
Spotting Camilla, he instructed her to show Leilani to the bathrooms.
“So who would have thought,” sneered Camilla. “Don’t think that just because you’ve polished up well that you’ll have what it takes to keep the attention of Renato.”
“I beg your pardon?” Leilani was shocked. She had her suspicions that Camilla harboured some jealousy, but she wasn’t expecting an open attack.
“Let’s just say that Renato will always come back to me regardless of whether you are married or not,” she taunted.
Leilani felt her blood boil. So what that her marriage to Renato was a baseless sham, he was still to be her husband, and she would not tolerate him making a fool of her. “Is that so? In that case I think I’ll need to have a little chat with Renato. I’m sure he and I will be able to clear this situation up. You may want to think about a career change,” she added with the last of her bravado.
Camilla stopped and gave Leilani a cunning stare. “Indeed! Well, why don’t the three of us get together for a chat, oh wait, we best not forget to include Anselmo,” with a saccharine smile she opened fire.
Leilani gaped and floundered out of her depth. The last thing she needed was for Renato to be aware of Anselmo. She wasn’t going to let Renato get in the way of her potential happiness and heaven only knew what he would do. He was so single-minded that if anything came in the way of his business dealings he’d find a way to remove the obstacle. She needed to placate this conniving woman even if it resulted in her humiliation. “Fine, have your affair. I’m not so naïve as to think that a man of my husband’s stature would remain monogamous. Frankly I couldn’t care less what you do. Keep him happy in bed. The less I have to pander to his needs the better,” she felt the bile rising in her throat. A loveless marriage was bad enough but to know that there would always be three in the bed, she wasn’t sure how she would withstand it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Leilani woke to a mobile phone ringing on her bedside table. “Hello.”
“Sorry, if I’ve woken you. I had to leave early this morning for business, but I wanted to apologise for not organising a phone for you sooner. I’ve entered all the numbers you will need into the phone including mine. You may call when needed,” he stated.
His statement just reiterated how unnatural their relationship was; for him to need to grant her permission spelled it out quite succinctly, “Thanks.”
“Camilla is also organising a wedding planner to come by the house today.”
“So soon?” it was all too much of a rush.
“Have you forgotten that we agreed to marry in a week?” he reminded her.
“Yes, but with the ball and I don’t know I thought we would need a bit more time?”
“You have a week from today. We will wed next weekend. The planner will do all the arranging just let her know what you want, and it will be her job to ensure it is done. I have given her a few stipulations of my own already. Now is the moment where I need you to step up into your new role and get the task done. If you require assistance then call Camilla, her number is logged in your phone.”
The last person she’d be calling was his mistress. He knew how to lay on the charm, treating her like one of his business subordinates and then trying to offload her to Camilla. “I’ll be perfectly fine,” she gritted out.
“Good. I’ll be back in a couple of days,” he clicked off without a word of sentiment not that she required any.
The week would be chaotic organising the wedding, but this would be her best chance to see Anselmo. While dressing her mind traced back to the trauma that propelled her to Italy. Leilani felt a wave of panic and sat down. She hadn’t come all of this way to back down now. Leilani steeled her resolve and phoned Anselmo, “Did you speak to him?” Nerves on edge, biting her beautifully manicured nails she perched herself on the bed and listened on tenterhooks.
“Si, you need to come today.”
“I have a wedding planner coming over soon. When she leaves, I’ll make my way. What else did he say, Anselmo? I need to know everything possible so that I am forearmed.”
“Trust me and come with an open mind and an open heart.”
They ended the call; Leilani pondered on the conversation. She was going to meet him yet she still knew so little. In fact, she realised she barely knew the essentials. Leilani was feeling miles out of her depth. She distracted herself with wedding plans and then later convinced the driver that she needed to go back into Rome to organise the wedding and look for her dress. He probably assumed her frantic request was due to premarital nerves, and that was fine with her as long as he drove her to the city.
Renato was not surprised that his wife hadn’t used her mobile to call him yet; he did think she might wait a bit longer though before making contact with her lover. He’d hoped he’d made the message of fidelity abundantly clear to her. True their conversation on this topic had not been resumed, however; he was not going to tolerate her defiance. He already briefed Savino to have Leilani followed in his absence, and if she were sneaking in visits to Anselmo Cardoni, they would both live to regret making a fool out of him. The engagement was public knowledge, and the man would need a pair of palle grande to bed his woman.
He picked up the phone and dialled. She answered him hesitantly on the second ring. “How was the appointment with the wedding planner?”
He could sense her relief that he was only calling regarding the wedding. “Um, fine. She said that it was a rush but not unachievable.”
“She is being paid an exorbitant fee to ensure it goes like clockwork. So where
are you now?” he queried.
“Ah, I’m on my way to Rome. I need to look for a dress and ah stuff.” He could already tell when his deceitful fiancée was lying to him. She ummed and aahed conspicuously.
“I see. Well in that case maybe we should meet up for dinner?”
“In Rome?” she squeaked.
“Yes, in Rome. I’m here doing business,” he clipped out. She’d assumed he was much further away, however when he had an agenda as full as he currently did it was simply more convenient to stay in the city. He would, of course, make time to clear his calendar so that he could confront Leilani once again on the issue of fidelity. Only this time he would make it abundantly clear what the expectation was.
“That sounds fine. When and where shall I meet you?”
He made arrangements to meet at the apartment where they’d be afforded a bit of privacy before heading out to dinner. It would be good for the media to spot them dating pre-wedding. It would give credibility to the rather short engagement period. To make that believable he’d need his wife looking more besotted with her fiancé and a lot less interested in any other man.
Leilani was once again at Anselmo’s. She sat on a lounge chair, and he poured her a generous nip of Amaretto. A bit of Dutch courage certainly wouldn’t hurt, which she sipped on while she waited for him to finish a phone call. She pondered her actions, where they might lead, and the repercussions if it didn’t turn out as she’d imagined. The reality was that things could go either way and, in fact, the probability was that it wouldn’t work out like she was hoping. She would like to think that she had an optimistic outlook peppered with a liberal dose of realism.