by L Neil
Marty asks quietly as he turns a corner, “Are you okay, ma’am?”
Dominic, seated in front of me, looks out the window contemplatively. Was he paying attention or was his mind elsewhere?
Clearing my throat which is suddenly tight, I reply, “I’m fine Marty, thank you.”
The dressmaker is Seamus’s wife, Wendy. Her hair is tied in a bun atop her head, a medium mousy-brown colour with streaks of grey that almost match the colour of her friendly eyes.
She says, “Seamus said you were lovely, but I can see now that that was an understatement.”
I blush and she asks me to take a step forward. She had pinned up the bottom of the nude slip and the overlaying ivory tulle, which falls to the floor.
There is an imperial trellis style pattern across the outer tulle layer of the dress, embroidered in ivory thread with added beads and sequins. The neckline is a V shape, made modest by the flutter sleeves that grace my shoulders.
I am in the guest room again. This is likely where I will be getting ready for the reception tonight, too.
“The photos didn’t quite capture you completely.”
“Photos?” My head whips to her, beside me. “What photos?” I ask.
She considers her next words. “Those clothes in the wardrobe – who do you think gathered them for you?” She titters, “Somehow, I cannot picture Frank at the mall.”
We laugh and I say, “No. I really didn’t know what to make of it.” But it makes sense, doesn’t it? She is a close friend and a dressmaker too, which would explain how everything fits perfectly.
My mind circles back to the fact that I must have had my photo taken, unbeknownst to me. I try to feel terrified and violated but I suppose I must be growing used to the idea that Frank has been stalking me for years now. It just doesn’t seem to disturb me that much.
“You were able to determine my size from photos?” I ask. “That’s impressive.”
She sighs, “I have been doing this a long time. Too long.” The smile lines on her face add to her gentle character. She has to be in her fifties and she certainly takes care of herself. Her and Seamus look like a perfect fit. I wonder if anyone will think that about me and Frank tonight?
Wendy takes the dress with her and promises to return it by 5pm, which only allows three hours for her to work on it. She really is good.
As her green Jaguar pulls away, a red Audi stalks up the long, tree-lined, circular driveway. Mrs Russo’s purple platform heels crunch in the pebbles as she somehow successfully makes her way to me, beaming.
It’s hair and make-up time.
CHAPTER 8
Hello, Mother
We arrive at il Mercato, the reception venue, in a black Rolls Royce.
Frank and I were both quiet on the way over. I was feeling disappointed about losing a job that I didn’t even get a chance to begin. I kept meaning to tell him about it but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. In part, I think I’m worried that he would be too happy about it and I don’t want to have a reason to be upset at him. I had already decided that it’s not his fault. I should have expected that being married to someone with his profile would be an issue for some people – especially a law firm.
But I wonder why he is quiet. He squeezes my hand and his dubious smile concerns me. Just as I am about to ask what is going on, a flash blinds me.
“Marty!” Frank barks, “Get Leo to take care of that, will ya?”
When my eyes adjust, I can see that Leo is here already. From inside the car, I can’t see or hear much but it doesn’t seem to take much effort for Leo to persuade the cameraman to leave.
“Fucking vultures,” Frank mumbles. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I did try to make this as low-key as possible.”
As the man flees, Marty opens the door for us.
Before we emerge, Frank sweeps my long, waved hair aside to press a warm kiss to my cheek. As he kisses me, I cup his newly shaven face and breathe in his delicious aroma and it centres me. Everything will be okay.
The gas lanterns beside the black metal gate throw shadows across his features as he holds out his arm and I link it with mine. There are no guests out here in the courtyard, only the security guards who are dressed in black, standing like ominous shadows against the white walls. Dominic is all business and so are the others, including Alex. It’s a relief to see that he’s still okay.
We walk towards the historic, white building, under the grand arches and are led to great, beautifully designed brass doors. An attendant opens them for us, revealing a golden, sparkling room filled with excited friends and family. They clap and whistle as they stand behind their chairs at the dinner tables.
Frank wraps his arms around me and kisses me deeply. When he pulls away, he tells me, “I love you so goddamn much.” His devilish grin erases any lingering worry in my mind, and we turn our attention toward the cheering guests in the room.
After we eat side by side at a table for just the two of us, he encourages me to walk around the room and say hi to my friends and family. I had waved to them from my seat while everyone dined.
“I have been too greedy for your attention,” he admits, having spent the entire meal with his free hand possessively making circles all over my body from my shoulder to my thighs. It would have seemed absent-mindedly to others, but I could feel his impatience that we were not alone.
Everyone in the room is mingling except for the people I want to see the most. I suppose they must be feeling out of place or unsure of what is happening.
The first table I visit is Manny’s. After he stands and hugs me tightly, telling me that I look beautiful, I lean over and take Isabella from her mother’s arms.
She has gotten fatter since I saw her last, only a few weeks ago. Her round cheeks look just about ready to burst when she grins, showing off her two bottom teeth. Her gums are otherwise empty. Why is that so damn cute?
Her dark brown hair has started to curl, and her honey-coloured eyes are so big and round, she appears cartoon-like.
Her sudden excited gurgle makes me melt and her parents laugh. And then she turns her attention to the extravagant centrepiece, reaching her chubby hands out to the apricot and white coloured roses atop the tall, brass vase. Smaller, matching brass candle holders surround the centrepiece on the white, soft tablecloth.
The dinnerware matches, with ornate brass plates and cutlery and the crystal glassware sparkles in the firelight. The beautiful chandeliers above are decorated with the same roses in the centrepiece.
It’s all so beautiful, I can understand why she is so hell-bent on grabbing at it.
I look back at Frank to see that he is still alone at our table, his hands laced before him, watching me closely. Is he reading too much into my momentary cluckiness?
I hand Isabella back to Silvia, Manny's beautiful, young wife, who grabs my hand and smiles at me gratuitously. I lean down so that I could hear her say, “Thank you so much, Hel. We…really hope you know how much we appreciate what you’ve done to take care of our family.”
I hug her around the shoulders and tell her, “Don’t mention it. And don’t worry…Frank and I…” it feels silly to say that we love each other when we have only been together for a few days. Although it’s...true. I think I do love him. Huh.
Instead, I say, “I’m happy. And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you guys.”
Dominic is close by and scowling harder than I have ever seen before. Jesus, why does he have to be everywhere?
Isabella’s chubby hand playfully smacks at my arm, reclaiming my attention. I beam down at her angelic face. I would pluck my eyeballs out of my head to keep this baby safe.
My next stop is the table with Sebastian, Natalia, Glenn and Rob who would most definitely be confused about all of this.
Natalia stands to hug me first. In a gold, sequined dress with spaghetti straps, she is enchanting. Sebastian is wearing a gold tie to match. Her hair is down and his is tied in a man-bun. As usual, they are e
ffortlessly beautiful.
“You are so gorgeous,” she dotes, “and your husband is really into you. I wish Sebastian looked at me with half that intensity.” She fans her face as we giggle.
Then, she picks up my hand to admire my ring. I never thought Natalia would be envious of me, but I can see it in her eyes. And that just doesn’t seem right.
The guys take turns shaking my hands. Normally, I would have expected hugs, but I think the hovering security has made them a bit edgy.
Feeling the need to explain myself, I tell them that I have been seeing Frank since I returned to New Orleans and before that, we were in an open, long-distance relationship. I pretend that I hadn’t mentioned it because of his high profile, and they seem to believe me.
Rob asks if I’m still keen to continue with our project and I tell the whole group that we couldn’t possibly throw away what we have. Natalia chuckles nervously and says, “Thank God you’re not leaving, because there is no way I could replace you.”
Sebastian laughs and takes her hand. “It’s true,” he confers, “we couldn’t torture people like that.” As we laugh as Natalia's expense, he softens the blow of his words by kissing her on the lips.
A hand caresses my lower back. For a split second, I assume that it’s Frank. Judging from the puzzled faces at the table, I must be wrong. I quickly turn to see that it’s Frank’s youngest son, Samuel.
“Hello, mother,” he grins, and it is terrifying.
We step away from the table together for some privacy.
His thick, dark hair is slicked back from his sharp and beautiful face. With his perfectly groomed eyebrows, chiselled jaw and deep smile lines, he looks like a younger version of Frank. Samuel’s mother must have had lighter eyes though, because his are a pale green.
Like every other man here, his suit is expensive and fits perfectly. However, there is something very singular about Samuel. Could it be his arrogant aura?
Finding my politeness, I smile and offer my cheek for the kiss that he is starting to lean into. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Samuel.” Honestly, it hadn’t occurred to me that he would be here.
I search the room for his older brother and he must know what I am thinking because he tells me, “Cristian isn’t here – he abhors weddings.” He smirks and the fact that I cannot tell if it is playful or hostile is worrying. It seems to be both.
He sweeps one of my arms up and steps back to look me over. He is blatantly judging me but again, I am not sure what he is feeling.
He must like what he sees because he tilts his head and quietly says, “You are lovelier than I had imagined. I can see why my father is so obsessed with you.”
The intensity of his gaze reminds me again of Frank – who is no longer at our table, by the way.
Samuel seizes my attention again by grabbing my hand, “Don’t worry Helena, my father isn’t far. Come. Let’s dance before that awful jazz band takes over.”
He pulls me onto the dancefloor in the middle of the room. Everyone else seems to be doing their own thing – mingling, dancing and drinking – so no one really notices when he twirls me around and then holds me close for a slow dance.
Security hasn’t come over to intervene. This must be okay, then.
The stringed music is a bit too lively for a slow dance, but he is more interested in chatting than dancing.
“I hear that Simon Briggs no longer has a beef with your father,” he says softly.
My breath hitches, I can’t help it. What do I say to that? He knew the reason I was marrying into his family. I guess everyone here except my friends would know, too.
“You sure know how to dampen the mood,” I murmur.
He pulls back and gently touches my chin, “Hey now, I was just making conversation. I am curious though,” he gazes at me, seeking, “how much did my father pay to get Simon off your back?”
Is he trying to embarrass me or is he concerned about his inheritance? Well, what little he will be entitled to anyway, now that Frank has amended his will.
He realises that I refuse to answer and continues, “I find it odd that he couldn’t call his buddy Simon and sort it out for you sooner. It’s almost like he benefitted from you needing him so desperately.” His crooked grin is condescending. But I am not a child who is easily manipulated. He will not make me doubt Frank.
I can see a blackness swarming in the corner of my eye. The man himself is stalking towards us with Dominic and Max, another security guard of ours, in tow.
Before he releases me, Samuel says hurriedly, “I would ask your father how he met our scrawny, black millionaire in the first place.”
My blood turns cold at what he is insinuating. No, I cannot listen to this. But when he says quietly, “My father has had his eye on you for quite some time, you know,”
I cannot ignore the uncertainty that tugs at my mind. Frank could not have set Jimmy up for failure. He wouldn’t. Would he?
Frank is near us now and when he faces him, Samuel’s grin is cunning and lecherous.
Frank holds his hand out to me. When he speaks to his son in such contempt, it only fuels my doubt. “It is past your bedtime, Samuel.”
Was he not invited? Why are we not allowed to speak to each other? Is it true - what Samuel is implying - and is Frank afraid that I will find out?
I realise that I am taking too long to accept his hand and the whole damn room is watching.
This is not the time nor the place for me to throw everything away. I place my hand in his and follow him back to our table, all the while looking over my shoulder to watch as Dominic and Max escort our uninvited guest away.
A part of me pities him. The other part really wants to speak with him again.
Frank taps his champagne glass, the platinum band shining on his finger, and everyone returns to their seats, smiling once more. They seem content to pretend that he didn’t just throw his son out. I sit along with our guests, my mind reeling.
The music fades to a stop and he is handed a microphone. He addresses the room with such glee and enthusiasm that everyone smiles warmly back at him.
“I am so very pleased to introduce you all to my beautiful wife, Helena.” He motions his glass toward me, and I smile to the crowd, despite the lump in my throat.
They clap in return and their beaming faces still seem genuine enough.
“A select few of you know how long I have dreamed of this day…but for most of you, this may seem out of the blue. Well, I am about to let you in on a secret.” He flashes his handsome grin and then looks down at me as he confesses, “I have loved Helena since the day I first laid eyes on her.
“That love has transformed over the years and now I am proud to say that I have finally made her my wife.”
The crowd cheers. I look to Manny - I can’t help it. He looks concerned, shocked even. He had no idea that Frank had his eye on me before my return six weeks ago. Let alone since I was seven years old.
Frank looks out to our guests and tells them, “When I was a young man - about seventeen - my father told us we were to move to America and make ourselves known here. And boy, did he do just that.”
Everyone joins him in laughter. Well, almost everyone. My band members appear slightly conflicted.
He sobers up. “But before we moved, I met an elderly man in a Florence cafe who changed my perception when it came to matters of the heart.”
His eyes look faraway when he continues, “You see, Filippo had just buried his wife and knew that he would soon follow her to the other side.
“The look on his face when he described her beauty, her strength and her tenderness was…pure love.
“He told me that she couldn’t bear him any children but that was okay because all he wanted was her. When he wasn’t around her, he was thinking about her. Whenever someone mentioned her name, his heart would race, and he would sometimes drop what he was doing and seek her out to feel her in his arms and remind her that he was always there.
“She would
mend his clothes and he would buy her jewellery. He would cook, she would clean. And they would make love nearly every day.
“He told me that when you find your one true love, one kiss is never enough. One touch will not satiate you. You can never get deep enough because your need for them is cavernous. You will want to be beside them, inside them always. You will want to wrap them around you, breathe them in and keep them with you forever.
“He said that when you marry someone, you agree that your lover may possess you forever and always.” He looks down at me and I know that he is thinking about what he wants to do to me when we get home.
He clears his throat. “You all know that this is my first marriage. There is a reason for that.” He pauses. “I was waiting until I found the woman who makes me feel all of these things.”