They were having so much fun that they never noticed Vince had entered the kitchen until he said, “Sounds like a party in here.”
The animated laughter and good cheer among the women in the kitchen dissipated like air being let out of a balloon. Pauline, the head cook, greeted Vince. “Breakfast is nearly ready, Mr. Moscolo. Would you like a cup of coffee while you are waiting to be served?”
“Yes. Thank you,” he said and, without another word, walked out of the kitchen towards the pool terrace where breakfast was usually served.
Jen knew he wanted her to follow him, but she resisted because she was having too much fun in the kitchen with the staff.
The staff’s more formal demeanor returned, and Pauline asked, “Mrs. Moscolo, would you also like to go out to the terrace and await coffee and breakfast service?”
It took a minute for Jen to think it over, before responding, “I’ll just grab two mugs of coffee for Vince and me, and you can bring breakfast out whenever it’s ready. Thanks.”
Vince was seething when Jen arrived on the terrace with their coffee. “What were you doing in the kitchen? You’re not a servant, Jennifer.”
Jen was taken aback by his anger, and desperately tried to find a way to diffuse it. “Of course I know that, Vince.” She cast her eyes downward and stared at her lap for a moment before speaking again. “You were sleeping so soundly when I woke up, and I didn’t want to disturb you. When I came out of the bedroom, I couldn’t resist the wonderful aroma coming from the kitchen.” She paused, and placed her hand on his thigh, stroking it as she whispered “I was so hungry this morning. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I really wasn’t able to eat dinner last night, after everything that happened.”
Vince’s expression softened, and Jen knew that she was on the right track. “I was so overwhelmed last night, and had never done anything like that before. My experience, umm, my sexual experience, as you know, is fairly limited. I just hope I made you happy, and that I helped you fulfill the fantasy you described. You have so much to teach me, and I want to learn how to give you as much pleasure as I can.” She looked into her husband’s eyes and noticed that his features had relaxed, and knew, this time, she had managed his anger.
When he pushed his chair back from the table and gestured for her to sit on his lap, she complied, allowing him to hold her tightly against his chest until their breakfast was served.
The following day, Jen breathed a sigh of relief as the helicopter took off for Tortola, so she and Vince could catch a small plane to their next destination, St. Barth’s, where Vince had rented a private villa within a resort for the following week. As much as she had enjoyed Serenity Island, Jen was looking forward to having people around, other than her husband and staff.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning, Jennifer. Is everything all right? Are you sad to leave Serenity Island behind?”
“Everything is fine, Vince, really. I’m just looking forward to seeing St. Barth’s,” she replied, deflecting the question. I think next time we go to Serenity Island, if there is a next time, we need to bring some other people with us, she thought. It was beautiful, but a little too private for my taste.
After a precarious landing at the small airstrip in St. Barth’s, and a short drive to their villa, Jen felt some of the tension deep inside her body finally melt away. She coaxed Vince into having lunch at a restaurant in Gustavia, instead of at the villa. “We’ve had so much beach and pool time,” she said, as they strolled hand in hand down the Rue de la République. “Isn’t it nice to get out and explore the town?”
“You’re right, Jennifer. It is nice to get out.” As they walked, Vince encouraged Jen to browse through the boutiques. “Don’t you want to do some shopping? This is one of the best streets for shopping in all of the Caribbean.”
“You won’t mind? I don’t want to you to be bored,” Jen said, as she looked in a store window.
“How could I be bored? You never give me the chance to buy you things. I love nothing more than showing you off,” he said, squeezing her hand.
“Okay, then let’s stop in here,” Jennifer said. “But let me know if you get bored, okay?”
“Deal.” Vince watched as Jen spoke French to the shopkeepers as she tried on clothes, happily handing over his credit card every time she found something she liked.
As they walked through Gustavia, Vince basked in the envious stares of men they passed on the street. They are all wishing that they could trade places with me for a day. Squeezing Jen’s hand, he thought, you can look, but you can’t touch her. She’s all mine.
The following morning, while Vince was attending to some business e-mails and phone calls, Jen asked, “Do you mind if I have our driver take me shopping again in Gustavia? I’d like to try to pick up some Christmas gifts for everyone while you work.”
“Of course I don’t mind, my love,” he said, looking up from his laptop. “Come here,” he said, beckoning her over to the desk where he was working. “I meant to give this to you yesterday,” he said, handing her an envelope.
“What is it?”
“Just open it.”
Jen tore the envelope open, and was surprised to find a black American Express card with the name Jennifer Moscolo imprinted on it. “Thank you, Vince,” she said. “But I’m confused. I have my own credit cards.”
“Why are you confused?” Vince was puzzled by Jen’s reaction. “You’re my wife, Jennifer, so of course I’ll take care of you from now on.”
“But I’ve always paid my own bills,” Jen protested.
Vince chuckled at her insistence on remaining independent. “I was the one who wanted you to curtail your modeling career, Jennifer. It’s only fair that I take care of you, completely, now that we’re married. I love taking care of you,” he said, rising to kiss her. And it will help me monitor your habits, whereabouts, and daily routine once we get home, he thought.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
The sounds of Christmas carols and the scent of pine greeted Vince as he stepped into the Fifth Avenue apartment the first night he returned home from the office after the honeymoon. “Jennifer? What’s going on?”
Running to greet her husband with a kiss, Jen said, “I’m getting the apartment ready for Christmas!”
“Christmas,” Vince repeated solemnly, pulling Jen into a tight embrace. “You know, I haven’t celebrated Christmas since my parents died.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry,” Jen replied. “I hope you’re not upset with me.”
“On the contrary, my love,” he said, holding her face in his hands, before kissing her gently. “You’ve breathed life into me, and brought joy back to me. I couldn’t be happier.” As he released her from his embrace, he said, “Show me what you’ve done.”
Jennifer led him by the hand through the gallery, decorated with tiny white lights and large red poinsettia plants on the floor along the walls, and into the living room where more white lights twinkled on a Christmas tree that stretched to the ceiling. “I put the lights on, but didn’t want to finish decorating it until you were home. I thought we could do it together after dinner,” she said, searching her husband’s face.
“It’s beautiful, Jennifer. Thank you for doing this for me, and for us. You have no idea how much I love you,” he said, before leaning in to kiss her. “Let’s have dinner, so we can come back in here and finish decorating the tree together.”
Once they were seated at the kitchen table, Jen asked, “If you haven’t celebrated Christmas since your parents died, what did you do?”
“I celebrated it with Seth and Rachel – a typical Jewish Christmas.” When Jen tilted her head and furrowed her brows, Vince chuckled. “You know, we’d go out for Chinese food.”
Jennifer laughed so hard she nearly choked on the water she was sipping. “Really? You’re kidding me, right?”
“I’m not kidding. That’s
what I did on Christmas.”
“Well,” Jen said. “How would you like to show Seth and Rachel what a real Italian Christmas is like?”
On Christmas Eve morning, Vince woke to find Jen was already up and out of bed. He pulled on his robe and walked towards the kitchen, inhaling the unmistakable scent of garlic simmering in olive oil, where he found her chopping parsley by hand. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, smiling as he leaned in to kiss her. “So, you’re really doing this?”
“As promised – the ‘feast of the seven fishes’!”
“Where is Mary?”
“She’s in the dining room, setting the table.”
“So, we’re alone for a little while. Is there anything I can do to help?” Vince approached Jen from behind and pressed himself up against her, while reaching around and slipping a hand inside her camisole. Massaging her breasts, he whispered, “Can’t I drag you back to bed for a little while?”
Jen purred at Vince’s touch. “I’d love that, but this has to get done,” she said, turning around to kiss him. “If you really want to help, I’ll put you to work after you eat breakfast.” Vince pouted, prompting Jennifer to add, “Maybe we can manage a little alone time later.”
“Okay,” he said, knowing not to push the subject of sex while Jennifer was concentrating on preparing a meal with a sharp knife in her hand. Changing subjects, he asked, “Are the menus for tonight ready?”
“All finalized and printed – they’re on the sideboard in the dining room if you want to take a look.”
Vince went into the dining room to retrieve a menu. When he returned to the kitchen, he had tears in his eyes. “Shrimp cocktail, smoked salmon canapés and crab spread during cocktail hour. Fried calamari, baked clams, mussels in white wine and garlic, and lobster fra’diavolo when we sit down.”
Jen smiled at him. “That’s seven,” she said.
Overwhelmed with love for his wife at that moment, he said, “You know, you’re perfect.”
Blushing, she said, “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You have no idea how long I searched for someone like you. In case I don’t say it enough later, thank you for doing this for me, and for our family and friends.”
“In my entire life, I’ve never experienced anything like this,” Rachel said to Jen as she pulled her coat on later that evening. “Everything was so delicious. Thank you for an amazing evening, and including us in your family tradition.”
Seth added, “Yes, Jen, thank you again for everything tonight. But, more importantly, thank you for what you’ve done for Vince. I have to admit that I was a little skeptical about the two of you, but you’ve shown him more love tonight than all of the previous women in his life put together. He’s a changed man because of you.”
Jen impulsively circled Rachel and Seth with her arms, drawing them in for a group hug. “Thanks for taking care of him and making him a part of your family through the years.” Looking at Seth, she continued, “I know he thinks of you like a brother.”
“Enough of the love fest,” Vince interjected, laughing. “I need to have some alone time with my wife. Enjoy your Chinese food tomorrow.”
Once the elevator door closed and they were alone, Vince said, “This just might have been one of the top three nights of my life.”
“Really? What were the other two?”
Vince took her by the hand and led her into the library for a night cap. “Sit,” he said, as he poured her a measure of hazelnut liqueur, before pouring an Armagnac for himself. After taking a sip, he said, “The two best nights of my life are, in order, our wedding, and the first night we made love. Tonight was the third best night ever.” Vince joined Jen on the leather sofa, and said, “It felt good to be a part of a real family tonight,” he said, as he held her tightly. “I’ve never been happier.”
The following morning, Vince led Jen on a make-shift scavenger hunt for gifts around the apartment. An antique sterling silver hairbrush and comb was set out on the vanity in her bathroom, ruby and diamond earrings hung from a branch on the Christmas tree, and a silk scarf was disguised as a napkin at the breakfast table.
Jen protested, “You’re spoiling me.”
“Oh, my love, trust me, I’m nowhere near through spoiling you yet,” Vince replied.
After they finished eating breakfast, Jen exclaimed, “Oh, no! We forgot all about our stocking gifts!”
“Come on, then,” Vince said, standing and taking her hand. “Let’s go open them.”
They raced to the library, where the stockings were hanging from the mantle. Jen squealed with excitement, “I’m so glad Santa didn’t forget us!”
When Vince gave her a dubious look, she shrugged her shoulders. “I can still believe in Santa if I want to.”
Laughing, Vince agreed. “Sure, of course you can believe in Santa.” How did I get so lucky?
Jen removed the stockings from their hooks, and sat down on the floor. She looked up at Vince, who was staring at her, and patted the floor next to where she was sitting. “Come on, join me,” she said, playfully.
They took turns pulling out gifts from their stockings, and Vince laughed out loud when he extracted a pair of toy handcuffs from his stocking.
“I thought you’d like those, especially after our honeymoon,” Jen said, laughing along with him.
Jen’s stocking included her favorite perfumed shower gel, and a notions kit filled with knitting supplies. Just when she thought she was finished with her gifts, Vince said, “There’s one more gift in your stocking, Jennifer.”
“Really?” Jen reached down into the toe of the stocking, where she felt a small box, and pulled out a toy car. Puzzled, she asked, “What is this?”
“It’s a Porsche Cayenne,” Vince explained. “The full-size version of it is waiting for you out in Southampton.”
“You bought me a new car? Thank you! I’m so excited,” she said, clapping her hands. “I can’t wait to put a ‘No Farms No Food’ bumper sticker on it!”
“You and your quest to save the farmers,” Vince said, chuckling. “Seriously, though, I know you’re attached to your Mini Cooper because your parents gave it to you, but we can keep it as a beach car. An SUV will be much better and safer for you, since you’ll be driving back and forth to Southampton so much this winter,” Vince said, as he pulled Jennifer into his arms. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
Later that day, on their way to Brooklyn Heights for Christmas dinner with the LaBella family, Vince said, “I want to make a short detour.” He entered the Gowanus Expressway, and continued driving to 39th Street, where he exited and turned towards Fourth Avenue.
Confused, Jen asked, “Where are we going?”
“We’re going to go see my parents first,” Vince answered, as they passed through the gates of Green-Wood Cemetery. He drove for a few minutes, before bringing his black Mercedes SUV to a stop near a stone mausoleum with the name Moscolo carved above the door. “My parents are buried here,” Vince explained. “I hated the idea of their going into the ground when they died, and since they never had their own house, I decided to give them one as their final resting place.”
“I’m sorry you lost your parents when you were so young,” Jen said, softly. “It must be really difficult to not have a family.”
“I have a family now, Jennifer. I have you,” Vince replied solemnly as he took his wife into his arms and kissed her, before repeating, “I have you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Jen spent much of the winter months travelling back and forth between the city and Southampton, where she was busy redecorating parts of Fair Fields, and getting the yarn shop ready for a late spring opening. Often spending a few weeknights apart from Vince, she reveled in her new-found freedom. Vince still insisted that she have a bodyguard with her when she was at the store and while she went on long runs throu
ghout the estate section in Southampton, but being able to have some time to herself allowed her to finally feel as though her life had somewhat returned to normal for the first time since she had been attacked in her apartment the previous year.
Each night after dinner, once Pablo and Lucy had retired to the servant quarters at Fair Fields, Jen curled up in either the library or in her home office, where she worked on developing some simple knitting patterns, or knitting items that she planned on selling in the shop, in addition to the yarn, needles, notions and pattern books. Some nights her childhood friends Allison and Carly, who lived in Southampton year-round, came over so they could knit together.
This is perfect. Life is good, Jen thought as she sat with her friends one night by the fireplace. “I’m so glad you’re both willing to help me with the shop,” Jen said. “There’s no way I can be there every day.”
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