Cinderella-ish (Razzle My Dazzle Book 1)

by Joslyn Westbrook

  “For thinking of me. I’m flattered.”

  “Daniella Belle, you’re a delight. But it’s getting late. Go back to bed, I insist. We have a long day tomorrow.”

  I ease up from the chair and place my hand on his shoulder. “Good-night, Antonio.”

  “Until tomorrow, Daniella. Sleep well.”

  Chapter 22

  Daniella

  The next morning I wake up to the sound of a rooster’s crow and the bright sun beaming down on my face, both forcing me to get up and dressed. I scurry over to the kitchen to find Nonna sitting, reading the local newspaper and munching on a fetta biscottata.

  “Good morning, Nonna.”

  She peers up through her dark-rimmed eyeglasses and smiles brightly. “Eh! Good morning, Daniella. You sleep well?” she asks, through a heavy Italian accent.

  “Yes, thank you.” I sit down beside her at the table.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Sort of. May I have a biscottate?” I ask, unsure if I’ve even pronounced it right.

  “Oh, of course. What about espresso, my dear? That too?”

  I nod graciously.

  Minutes later, she produces the hot espresso along with the biscuit.

  “Antonio. He left for the factory. He didn’t want to wake you. But he said he’ll return soon and you two will head back to Milan.” She pats the back of my hand, seeming to try to ease any discomfort I may be feeling.

  Truth is, I wasn’t planning to be left behind. But it was thoughtful of him to let me sleep.

  I smile. “Oh, it’s fine. I don’t mind hanging out here with you, Nonna.”

  “You have a lovely smile, Daniella.” She cocks her head to the side, giving me a serious expression. “You seem to have this uh, aura about you that comes from within. Natural. Not forced.” She looks down at her biscuit. “Very similar to my Antonietta.”

  “I’m sorry…who?”

  “Antonietta. My daughter. Antonio’s mother.” She smiles at the thought.

  “Oh, I see. I didn’t know her name. I’ve only seen a photograph of her.”

  “Oh, yes. The one when she was pregnant with Antonio, no?”

  I nod.

  “Did Antonio share what happened?” She looks at me, eyebrows raised.

  I shake my head as I sip my espresso.

  “He doesn’t speak about it much since he never met her.”

  Nonna folds the newspaper and sits back in her chair with her arms folded over her chest as if to provide self-comfort. “Antonio’s mom was a young woman of eighteen years, living here, in this very house, when she met this French-American businessman while she was shopping in Milan. My goodness, was she captivated by him. He was about ten years older than she was and had money to woo her to the moon and back. I warned her to stay away from him—that he was probably after one thing. But I couldn’t deny, my daughter was a beauty with this magnetic aura.” She smiles and pats my hand again. “The same aura I see in you.” She sips on her espresso. “Anyway, Antonietta fell for this man and ended up following him to America—California to be exact. They had an affair for months, while he was doing business and living it up at a fancy hotel in Beverly Hills. Antonietta got a job as a housekeeper, working for this older woman who lived alone in this elaborate home in Beverly Hills. My daughter was on top of the world. Until her man, Hugo Michaels, just up and disappeared. A few months later, she realized she was pregnant.”

  I sit back in the chair, completely engrossed by her story. And already my heart aches for Nonna.

  “So I begged her to come back to Italy. Have the baby here and I’d help her raise it. But she refused, citing she loved America and was planning to stay and make it work. It broke my heart, but she was a grown woman living her life.”

  I finish my espresso and listen intently.

  “Then, I got a phone call from Miss Tilly. Her employer. She said that my Antonietta had gone into early labor, with an elevated blood pressure. She passed away during the delivery, never having the chance to see or hold her baby boy. I was a hysterical mess. Miss Tilly flew me to Los Angeles and, when I arrived, together we came up with a plan. First, we named him Antonio, after his mom and gave him the last name of his father, the dirt bag who left my beautiful daughter. Anyway, Tilly explained how much Antonietta wanted to raise Antonio in America. So she offered to allow me to stay at her house and work part-time as a housekeeper while I raised my grandson. I agreed to do so; after losing my own husband many years ago, I was alone in Italy anyway.”

  I nod in absolute amazement.

  “So, after my daughter’s funeral, I contacted my brother Carlo and explained what had happened and asked him to keep an eye on this house until I returned. So he moved in, bless his heart, and renovated it over the years while I remained in Beverly Hills raising Antonio. Miss Tilly was taken by Antonio, especially since she had no children of her own. All she had was her beautiful home and what seemed like an endless amount of money. She made sure Antonio went to the finest private schools, hired tutors for subjects he needed extra help in, and spoiled him rotten. She actually treated us both very well. And since she was much older than I was, she eventually passed away when Antonio was sixteen. She left him the house, her money, everything.”

  I sit wide-eyed, completely shocked. “Is that the house he lives in today?”

  She nods.

  “Wow. That’s amazing.”

  “Yes. Anyway, once he turned eighteen I wanted to go back to Italy. I had only been back once or twice since I left and I missed it. I missed my house—this house.” She looks around the kitchen and smiles. “Antonio wired a large amount of money into my account, saying he could never repay me for what I did for him. And soon after, I left America and came back here.”

  The two of us sit in silence, both digesting what had been shared. I have a newfound respect for both Antonio and Nonna, and now understand why their bond is so deep.

  “Antonio started CraveMe when he was only nineteen years old, determined to make his way without using the money Miss Tilly left him. Aside from donating money every month to the hospital he was born at, I’m not at all certain what he plans to do with all of her money.”

  Nonna rises from her seat and begins to remove our now empty plates from the table.

  “I’m not sure Antonio wanted me to share all of that with you, but I feel like I can trust you. And I can tell he likes you.”

  “He does?” I ask surprised, as I begin to help her set the plates and espresso cups in the kitchen sink.

  “Oh, please, he’d be a fool not to. And I know my grandson. He’s never brought a woman to meet me, and he’s been talking about you non-stop.”

  I smirk at the warm feeling brewing inside of me.

  Truth is, I think I like him too.

  Chapter 23

  Antonio

  I was feeling restless, so I took off early for the factory so Daniella and I can get back to Milan sooner than planned. I know she probably looked forward to going back to the factory with me, but when I peeked in her room this morning she was sound asleep—one sexy bare leg taunting me from outside of the covers. I could only imagine how the rest of her body looked under there, remembering she told me she sleeps naked.

  If she were mine I would have been naked under those covers with her.

  All over her.

  Touching her.

  Loving. Every. Tender. Inch. Of. Her.

  I digress…

  I let Nonna know I’d be back and asked her to keep Daniella entertained while I was gone. And while at the factory, Uncle Carlo and I went over details of the changes I wanted made to the fabric and designs, and I also picked up what I hope Daniella will wear to the ball.

  Uncle Carlo promised a quick turnaround, driving preliminary samples to Milan no later than Friday.

  And now I’m back at Nonna’s saying my farewells, leaving her tickets to the fashion show. She hugs me and whispers, “I hope you don’t mind—I told Daniella all about your moth
er, father, and Miss Tilly.”

  I pull back, a little shocked but also relieved. Better she explained all of that than I, especially since I dislike talking about any of it. “I don’t mind, Nonna.” I kiss her on both cheeks. “So, what do you think of her?”

  “I don’t think I would have shared any details about your life if I didn’t like her. She’s a great girl with a beautiful heart. I can see why you’re so taken. But somewhere along the line, she’s been hurt; I can see that in her eyes. Women who have a heavy heart tend to be very reserved. Keep that in mind, okay?”

  I nod, appreciating her insight. Nonna knows her stuff and I trust her with everything.

  Daniella appears from the hallway, carrying her overnight bag and boots. She’s stunning as usual in a formfitting dress, matching tights, and for the first time, flat shoes, showcasing her petite height.

  I immediately take her bag.

  “Nonna, it’s been a pleasure,” she says. “I’ll be sure to visit again, if Antonio says it’s okay.”

  “You’re welcome anytime, with or without Antonio.” She winks and the two of them embrace.

  Nonna stands outside as we pull onto the road, headed back to Milan.

  Buzzing in and out of traffic, I think about what Nonna said about Daniella, and I haven’t stopped wondering who may have hurt her. I know it’s more than the idiot who broke up with her via text. But what? Her foster parents? A love gone totally awry? I want to ask, but I don’t want to push her further away. It’s bad enough there is this very visible wedge between us known as work. So I dare not create another needless wedge.

  She sits quiet, peering out the window, seeming to be deep in thought. There is a mysterious intrigue about her. What makes her tick? I hope to be fortunate enough to uncover that soon.

  I decide to steal the silence. “So, Uncle Carlo promised a quick turnaround and will drive some samples to Milan no later than Friday.”

  She looks away from the window, now studying me. “That’s good. I can’t wait to see them.”

  “You okay?”

  She nods. “Uh-huh. I think I’m just still getting over the excitement of being in Italy. I love it here, Antonio.”

  “It is a wonderful place. And part of the reason I have the factory here. So I can visit whenever possible. That and to keep an eye on Nonna. I worry about her all alone.”

  “She’s amazing, Antonio, and I can tell she’s very proud of you. Your drive and your independence.”

  “That makes me feel good. I owe Nonna a lot for giving up eighteen years of her life in Italy to raise me in America. I’ll never be able to repay her.”

  “Oh, but don’t you see you have? The way you turned out has made it all worthwhile.”

  I could just pull this car over and kiss this woman right now.

  But I won’t.

  “Thanks for that, Daniella. You know, for an assistant, you’re pretty alright,” I joke.

  “I told you a couple of times already, I’m your girl.”

  And I want so bad to be your guy.

  Chapter 24

  Daniella

  Ever since I was young, I killed time by sketching designs in sketchbooks that I would buy using money I earned from doing chores, sweeping hair up at the local hair salon, babysitting, or by helping the older lady across the street carry groceries in.

  I had sketchbooks galore, with designs categorized by my creatively named collections.

  I dreamed of being a fashion designer with top models fighting to pose in my clothes, featured in top fashion magazines like Marie Claire, Harpers Bazaar, InStyle, Cosmopolitan, and Vogue.

  And then, when I was seventeen, I discovered a reality show—Project Runway—in which fashion contestants compete to design a collection for New York Fashion Week.

  I was inspired by the rush they seemed to have, involved in all that encompassed Fashion Week. I was lucky enough to get a taste of this during my design school days.

  But nothing of this magnitude.

  It’s been a crazy stack of days since Antonio and I returned to Milan. We both have busied ourselves deep in the throes of making sure we have everything perfectly laid out for the show—including the song set for the runway.

  1.Donna Summer—She Works Hard For The Money

  2.Cyndi Lauper—Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

  3.Eurythmics—Sweet Dreams

  4.Janet Jackson—Control

  5.Pat Benetar—Love is a Battlefield

  6.Vanity 6—Nasty Girl

  7.Salt-N-Pepa—Push It

  8.Sheila E—Glamorous Life

  9.Gloria Estefan—Conga

  10.Madonna—Express Yourself

  Each song represents the theme and I’ve been working hard, sketching what I believe will best accompany each lingerie piece inspired by the song.

  Purses. Shoes. Hairstyles. Hats. Jewelry. Layers of Clothing—the tedious behind-the-scenes stuff that drives designers mad.

  Antonio approved of the song choices, and he was highly impressed by the sketches, believing all will beautify each scene we present.

  Now, I’ve gotta go hunt for many of these items, which should be a snap since I’m surrounded by every fashionable boutique I could dream of.

  Only one problem. Antonio won’t allow me to venture out on my own—a battle we’ve been discussing now, for over an hour.

  “I don’t get why you don’t approve of me going on my own. You’re busy with business stuff, so I should take this time to purchase all of the items on my list.” I slouch down onto the sofa in the fashion expo office, arms and legs crossed in protest.

  “And I don’t get why you don’t understand that I don’t want you out on the streets of Milan on your own.”

  “Antonio. It’s Milan. During Fashion Week. What could go wrong?”

  He scoffs from behind the desk he’s sitting at, while working on business spreadsheets. “It’s not quite Fashion Week yet. And the fact that there are so many people out there right now—drawn here specifically for the event—just about anything could go wrong.”

  I roll my eyes and throw my arms in the air.

  “Look, Liza and Jonah will be here Friday. I’ll feel better if you go with one, or even both of them, okay?” He smiles and that, on its own, settles my grievance.

  “That’s two days away. What do I busy myself with until then?”

  “Well.” He stands away from his desk chair and walks over to sit next to me. “How about you attend some of these? I won’t be able to go, but I’d appreciate if my Sassy Assistant goes in my place.”

  “Sassy Assistant?” I say, taking the pre-fashion-show guest pass from his hand.

  “Since day one.” He winks. “This pass will get you into all of the events located in this expo center and should keep you busy until Friday. I’ll expect updates on all of the latest trends on fabrics and accessories.”

  I gesture a hand salute. “Yes, Sir.”

  He chuckles. “But first, how about an early dinner before the crowds take up all the restaurant space? I think we both can use a fashion-focused break.”

  “Pizza?”

  “You read my mind.”

  Pizza AM is located in Downtown Milan, with festive décor and a small menu. At first, I’m put off by their small menu options, but Antonio swears a smaller menu translates into better, more thoughtfully prepared cuisine. He takes the liberty of ordering for us. I don’t want to take the chance of ordering pepperoni and get told pepperoni in Italy is actually sweet bell peppers.

  “Trust me on this one.”

  “You’re the boss,” I say in a brat-ish, unfazed tone.

  “Says the Sassy Assistant.”

  I shake my head.

  I do trust him.

  More than he knows.

  “Thanks for the pass. I’m looking forward to attending all of the events.”

  “Oh, not a problem. I hope you understand my concerns. You’re a beautiful woman. It’s bad enough guys gawk even when you’re with
me.”

  I feel my eyebrows snap together. “No, they don’t.”

  He snarls, “Uh, yeah, they do.”

  “Well, I probably haven’t noticed because I’ve sworn off men.”

  His jaw drops. “You’ve sworn off men?”

  “Yep. Ever since Jacob Ryan broke up with me via text. That day, I decided men are off limits.”

  His expression softens. “Interesting. And for how long?”

  “How long what?”

  “Will you be men-less? A day, month, year—”

  I raise my chin. “Forever.”

  “That’s a mighty long time. You’ll break a lot of hearts.” He drums the tips of his fingers along the table.

  “Which is so much better than anyone breaking mine.”

  Chapter 25

  Antonio

  I’ve kept my distance from Daniella for the last couple of days, as I stay focused on things that need to get done before the show. I’m glad she’s agreed to go to pre-show events in my place and gave up on venturing out shopping alone in Milan.

  I know how men are, and I don’t want anyone trying to woo his way into her life.

  Maybe I’m just wary of such instances since it’s how my mother and father met. Sometimes men seek out young, beautiful women and don’t care about breaking their hearts.

  Although I guess I don’t have to worry about anyone breaking Daniella’s heart; she’s ‘sworn off men’.

  I still shake my head at that statement.

  Because I want her.

  It’s Friday and Liza and Jonah are due to arrive this evening.

  Uncle Carlo has dropped off the samples and will need to make only a few tweaks before he brings the finished pieces here on Sunday—two days before the show.

  There are only a few pending items left on the list, all of which, I hope, will make it to the completion list within the next few days.

  1.Accessories and clothing needed for the walk—Daniella is to take care of this with Liza this weekend and purchase items based on her sketches. The woman has amazing talent and I trust her with this project immensely.