Page 115 of Captured Fantasy

I took a deep breath and crossed the landing, pausing outside the door. It was quiet on the other side of the door and I considered leaving. This was stupid and Lucien wasn’t going to agree to it. I turned, but the thought of walking up the aisle alone on my wedding day made me knock.

“Come in.”

Lucien’s cool, silky voice cut the quiet and I turned the knob, stepping inside. He sat on the other side of the large, oak desk in his perfectly tailored gray suit. As always, his hazel eyes were blank, devoid of any emotion. On the desk beside him was a cigarette, laid aside in a tray to smoke itself out. I closed the door behind me and crossed the room, my heels loud on the floor.

“What is it?” He looked tired as he closed his laptop.

I loitered a safe distance away. Lucien when he was in charge of the outfit was a different kind of Lucien than the man who had comforted me all those weeks ago.

“Congratulations,” I said. “Olivia told me she’s pregnant.”

A flash of softness moved across his face. “Thank you, I appreciate that, Enza.”

“She didn’t say when she was due.”

“The baby will be here in early winter.” He picked up the cigarette and breathed in the smoke, leaning back and letting it drift from his mouth. “Now, what is it, Enza? Surely you didn’t come here just to offer your congratulations.”

I stalled wondering if maybe I should back out now.

“Well?”

“I was wondering if you would walk me down the aisle.”

The words came out in a rush and a long silence following them. Lucien’s brow twitched and he stared at me, his expression totally blank, totally unreadable. My heart hammered and I took a deep breath to steady it. The corner of his mouth twitched.

“You want me to act as your father on your wedding day?”

“I don’t want to walk up alone,” I whispered.

“And there’s no one else?”

“You’re the boss,” I said, gathering my courage. “Cosimo told me once that you had a duty of care toward me, that you told him that.”

He inclined his head. “And I still do.”

“And, I hope, that you’re my friend too.”

There was another extended silence and he sighed, his shoulders dropping. “I would be happy to walk you down the aisle on your wedding day, Enza Russo,” he said. “As your boss and as your friend.”

A surge of warmth moved through my chest and I sent him a grateful look. “Thank you, it’s means a lot to me, Lucien.”

“Well, don’t take it too personally, if I said no, Olivia would have my ass,” he said, waving a hand. “Now get on, I have work.”

I smiled at him as I left and he shook his head.

The morning of my wedding was blisteringly hot. Even the air conditioning running full blast in the Esposito mansion couldn’t keep my makeup from sweating and my curls from wilting. Mrs. Venetti fussed over my hair, arranging it and packing it with curlers for almost an hour before giving up. Olivia took over, pinning it at the nape of my neck in an elegant bun and attaching the veil a little lower than previously planned. Iris dabbed my makeup and powdered it until it didn’t budge and sprayed it until I felt like a porcelain doll.

They helped me put on the lace dress and zipped it snugly around my body. I sat down and let Mrs. Venetti help me with my stockings and garter and the buckles of my heeled oxfords.

I stepped before the mirror and gasped. I was beautiful, every hair in place, every line in my dress exactly how I’d imagined it. Mrs. Venetti teared up, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me in for a gentle hug.

“Well, you don’t need advice, so all I’ll say is congratulations,” she said, patting her cheeks dry.

Iris turned, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Maybe she does need advice, Mrs. Venetti.”

“Iris, dear, she’s been married before,” she said, waving a hand.

Iris grinned with the delight of teasing poor Mrs. Venetti. “Younger men will give you a harder time of it than men who are almost seventy on their wedding night,” she proclaimed. “Just make sure to arch your back if he’s behind you and he really starts going at it. I learned that the hard way, got a bruised cervix.”

---