Page 42 of Nanny to the Mafia

That explained it. I grimaced at the thought of wearing Mrs Capizzi’s ring. I wondered if his ex-wife had worn it as well, but I didn’t dare ask.

Got my note?

Why do we have to go out?

I typed. It’s not like we were married for real.

The phone ringing in my hand startled me. I picked it up cautiously.

“Divya, we are having dinner tonight at a restaurant,” he said. “The judge handling the custody case is going to be there, and it's important we show our collective faces there to create a story.” He broke off in a torrent of Italian to someone else. “Capisti?”

He obviously had other things to do than me today.

“Divya, did you understand?” he snapped at me.

“Yes. I didn’t know you were speaking to me.”

“Good.”

“Is it posh? This restaurant?” I walked to his closet again to go through my clothes. I didn’t really think I had anything that posh. Unless I wore my wedding dress again.

“I guess so. Why?” His tone implied he had better things to do than discuss the ratings of a restaurant.

I bit my lip nervously. “I don’t think I have anything to wear.”

Another stream of Italian followed before he seamlessly switched back to English. “Be ready at five. Remo will bring you to some shops.” He hung up on me.

Well, good morning to you too.

I put the ring on. I knew him enough to know I’d better get used to it before he forced it on my finger. It weighed heavier than concrete. Problems for later.

Dropping the phone, I walked into Cora’s room. A smile tugged at my lips when I saw her in between the white, wooden rails of her cot. She sat in her sleeping back rocking back and forth and gurgling with her stuffed rabbit. The moment I poked my head above the cot, she gave me the most adorable smile I’d ever seen. Unlike her father, she knew how to greet me with a bright good morning.

I drifted from one designer shop to another in the mall. Antonio’s chauffeur, Remo, had dropped me off with the request to send a message where he had to pick me up. I loved shopping. Especially if I had the money to spend. But seeing the price tags made me uncomfortable. Antonio was a very rich man, and money was obviously of no issue for him. The credit card Remo had pressed into my hand was hopping in my handbag, eager to come out and pay. Still, I didn’t feel comfortable spending it, especially when this, whatever it was, was a short-term arrangement.

I stopped in front of a dress on display. It was absolutely stunning. In a beautiful tan colour, a few shades darker than my skin, it had my name written all over it. A two-piece set with a sleeveless bodice hanging loose on the mannequin in combination with a low waist skirt with a slit in the middle. I peeked at the price. Even though I already loved it, I was only willing to admit it after I viewed the price. Finally. I almost flew into the shop, happy that I wouldn’t have to pay half the price of a car to buy a dress.

Inside, I found even more creations I loved, slowly going through the collections one at a time.

“Welcome to Lakshmi’s. Let me know if I can help you.” I turned around to look at a petite woman in her mid-fifties with an obvious Indian heritage. She had her straight black hair in a tight bun and a bindi on her forehead.

“Thank you. Do you have the dress on display in my size?”

“Ah. Beautiful choice, and with your complexion even better.” She took a step back to look at me shrewdly. “I think you will have the size of the mannequin. Let me get it out for you.”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother you too much.”

“Nonsense. It’s no bother at all.”

Looking around, I picked up a lovely clutch in soft gold and high-heeled sandals in a cognac brown. I waited in the fitting room till the lady brought the dress for me.

“It looks like a dress, but it’s actually a two-piece set.” She said, handing it over to me.

The instant I put it on, relief gushed inside me. I was glad it wasn’t the price of a car because I really, really loved it. The linen fabric with a touch of silk gave it a natural look with a soft shine. The colour was beautiful on me. The skirt, though tight, was less so than my usual pencil skirts, making it easier to move around, especially with the slit in the middle that came up just above my thigh.

“Everything alright?” the lady inquired from just outside the curtain. I went out to show it to her.

Her kohl-lined eyes twinkled when she saw me in the dress. “Oh, blessings to you, my child. You look beautiful in this.”

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