Page 15 of Surprise Baby for the Don

My stomach drops as we pass designer stores and elegant boutiques. I look back down at my now wrinkled skirt and off-white blouse. Compared to the women walking on the street, I look downright dumpy. I sigh as Red parallel parks and Bats turns to stare at me, waiting for me to get out of the car.

I look between them, pleading. “This is far too much,” I complain. “I’m more of an off-the-rack girl, we can just find an outlet mall. I know of a really good one on the other side of town. Maybe even a Macy’s if there’s still any in business around here!”

Bats leans across me, opening the door for me, then unfastens my seatbelt. He gestures for me to get out, and when I turn, Red is already there, waiting for me.

“Mr. Rossi instructed us to bring you here,” he says simply. “So this is where we’re shopping.”

The boutique is intimidatingly luxurious, marble floors and gold accents everywhere. There’s a giant chandelier hanging in the middle of the room, but I notice there aren’t any clothes out on the floor. My heart skips in anticipation, realizing this is the kind of place where stylists bring you options they’ve picked out foryou. Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine I’d be shopping at a place like this.

As I suspected, the woman at the desk stares at me with a look of barely concealed contempt, but the way she’s eyeing Red and Bats tells me she’s choosing her words very carefully. I probably looked like a dumpster fire in her eyes.

Red approaches her with zero self-consciousness and delivers a line he’s clearly been told to repeat.

“Mateo Rossi says to, ‘Dress her like she’s the most important woman in the room.’”

The way the woman’s face immediately changes tells me that she knows who Mateo is and she isn’t going to disappoint him. She nods and motions for me to follow her. I look to Red and Bats, who are clearly bored out of their minds, and I already know there’s no point in arguing. I follow the woman back into a large private dressing area with a pedestal in the middle that faces several mirrors.

She asks me if I’d like a glass of champagne, and I can only nod, already feeling lightheaded. When she returns, she’s flanked by two other staff members who are each carrying an armful of clothes for me to try on. They hang the clothes up on a metal rod jutting out of the wall, as the first woman hands me my champagne.

“Erik and Bridgette will take care of you for the duration of your appointment,” she tells me. “Should you need anything else, there is a button just here that you can push.”

I nod and thank her before she disappears, leaving me to the capable hands of the stylists.

Before I know it, the two are bustling around me, helping me into designer outfits that I absolutely could not afford without taking out a second mortgage on Pop’s apartment. Bridgette brings over a sleek black dress, while Erik suggests a silk blouse paired with tailored pants. I try on each piece, feeling as though I’m being transformed into a classier, more refined version of myself.

It’s strange being dressed by two strangers like I’m a doll. They barely look at me, though, more focused on the fit of each piece. They’re critical of the clothes, laser focused on how this dress hides my curves or that blouse falls too far down my waist. They don’t give me a moment to feel self-conscious, instead zooming back and forth to find pieces that fit me perfectly and accentuate all the right areas.

The final outfit they choose for me is unlike anything I’d ever pick out for myself. It’s a tailored dress in a deep emerald green, perfectly fitted to my shape, with elegant black heels to match. I look in the mirror, and for a moment, I don’t recognize the woman staring back. Bridgette catches my expression and smiles.

“You look like you could run the world,” she says, adjusting a stray strand of my hair.

I don’t know if I’m ready to run the world, but I do feel powerful and polished. Like a version of myself I’ve only dreamed of. But it didn’t feel authentic. It didn’t feel like me.

I thank Bridgette and Erik and ask if I can wear the outfit out of the store. I had an act to keep up I suppose. They agree, hanging up the outfit I walked in wearing and zipping it into a garment bag that’s already filled to the brim with the other outfits they’ve deemed perfect. As I’m exiting the dressing room, Erik whispersto me that I should burn that outfit, and I can’t help but giggle. Maybe it’s the champagne.

When Red and Bats see me, they nonchalantly nod in approval, and I watch as Red hands the woman a black credit card. Bats takes the garment bag from Erik and leaves us to hang it in the car. My stomach growls and I realize I’m actually looking forward to having lunch with Mateo. I want to see what he thinks, to gain his approval, even if these weren’t exactly my choices.

I’m surprised when we leave the boutique and don’t get back into the car. Instead, Red leads me to a chic salon a few doors down. When we walk inside, two women are standing at an empty station and they light up when they see me. I realize this must have been prearranged and can’t help but blush when I remember that I told Mateo I hadn’t had time to put on mascara this morning.

“You have twenty minutes,” Red tells them smoothly. “Do what you can.”

Of course I want to immediately protest, but I’m maneuvered into the chair and handed yet another glass of champagne. The women work fast and furiously, and when they turn me toward the mirror, I see that they’ve used their time efficiently. My wild hair has been tamed into sleek, cascading waves down my back, and my makeup is natural and subtle. I’m grateful they didn’t turn me into a full beat beauty pageant queen.

Red collects me and we’re soon back in the car, zipping through traffic until we reach an upscale restaurant a few blocks away. It’s the kind of place that doesn’t even have a sign outside, and likely has a waiting list for months. An hour ago, I wouldn’t feel confident enough to walk through the doors, but now I feel like Ibelong, and I want everyone to know it.

As we’re about to head inside, Red suddenly stiffens. He’s looking around, his eyes narrowing. “Something’s not right,” he murmurs, his tone serious.

I freeze, my pulse kicking up a notch. “What do you mean?”

Red turns to Bats, his voice low but commanding. “Stay in the car with her. I’ll check things out.”

Bats doesn’t look thrilled with this arrangement, but he pulls me back into the car without argument. As we sit there, he grows more anxious. He grips the door handle so hard his knuckles go white.

“Bats,” I start, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.

“Damn it, I’m not waiting out here,” he grumbles, shooting out of the car like he’s on fire. I watch as he runs to the back of the restaurant, disappearing into the alley.

A sudden surge of anxiety hits me. It’s been such a nice day so far, it’s been too easy to forget about Mateo’s reputation. Sitting here, the weight of it starts to settle on my chest, and I decide sitting alone in the car can’t be any safer than going in after them. Whatever’s happening, I’ll be better off with them than waiting here in the unknown.

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