chapter TEN
I had driven past, but never stopped in the store on South Grand Avenue filled with the most exquisite Goth club wear imaginable. Unlike many girls, I detested window shopping. What was the point of drooling over something you couldn’t afford?
Elegant Gothic and Victorian style dresses filled some racks, while others contained leather and PVC clothes. Fishnet and lace were abundant throughout the store, as was silver jewelry. When I looked at a price tag of one dress that read $2000, I turned to leave. “I can’t afford this, Vittorio.”
“Do not fret, I told you I would buy you a gown.”
“I can’t accept something like this from you.”
“I insist.”
“No, really. I barely know you. I can’t.”
He almost looked hurt. “Elena, please. My job provides more income than I know what to do with. I do not say that to brag, simply to illustrate the point that if I wish to buy a beautiful woman an expensive gown, there is no reason for her to turn me down.”
Glancing around the store, I saw several items I would love to own. “You’re not going to give me a choice, are you?”
“I would never dream of taking choices away from you.”
I didn’t like it, but grudgingly accepted his offer. What would it hurt to have a really nice gown anyway? “Alright, I’ll let you buy me a dress.”
“Thank you,” he said, and sounded sincere.
I didn’t understand what was going on, but filed it in my brain to ponder when I was alone. Why was it so important that I allow him to buy me a dress?
I looked through racks of dresses, skirts, and corsets, unable to choose just one.
Vittorio came to my rescue with an item that could only be called a gown, never a mere dress, and asked if I would try it on.
The gown was surprisingly simple. The top was a black corset connected to a long, flowing skirt with a short train, and made of a fine satin. Royal purple was woven throughout in the form of a shimmering thread. I felt like a princess, and dared not look at the price tag.
The saleslady brought me shoes with a four-inch heel that matched the purple in the dress, and suggested black lace panties, silk stockings, and a garter belt to match. I wasn’t sure about the matching undergarment set; no one would see it. She insisted they would help me feel sexy, even if no one saw, so I accepted.
When I changed back into my street clothes, I told Vittorio I loved it. “I’m going to wait outside while you pay. I do not want to know what this costs,” I said firmly.
After a light dinner, we went to Vittorio’s mansion. It was old, built of stone, and looked like a European fortress. I’d often driven past the mansions lining Forsyth Avenue, wondering what they looked like inside. Any home directly across from Forest Park would be expensive, but I couldn’t imagine what these cost. I expected to find gaudy, ostentatious furniture and decorations inside. A clean, modern decorating style surprised me. The rooms were not sparse, but with fifteen-foot ceilings, seemed open and airy.
Our footsteps echoed on marble floors as he led me to the guest suite. A few paintings hung on the walls, but not so many that the hall appeared cluttered. One in particular caught my attention. It was a crow in boots walking through a barren field. A dead tree loomed in the background.
“That’s an interesting painting,” I said.
“It’s one of my favorites. It is Krahe, by Rudi Hurzlmeier.”
“It’s sad, but kind of whimsical at the same time.” We admired the painting side by side for a few moments.
We finally reached the guest suite at the end of the long hallway. It was a large, tastefully decorated bedroom with mahogany furniture. The bedding was midnight blue with traces of silver throughout and looked inviting, even though I wasn’t tired. A free-standing full length mirror stood next to the dresser. The bathroom was the size of the entire first floor of my duplex. A jacuzzi tub that looked as if it could hold four people sat in one corner, a giant shower in another. Makeup, shampoo, lotion - the works - lined up on the double vanity lining one wall
“Do you make a habit of hosting women at your home?” I asked, hating the jealous tone I heard in my voice.
“Elena, please do not be upset. I do not. When you agreed to come back with me, I sent my assistant a message asking her to pick these things up for you. You are a rare exception in my life. Bryn must have talked about me, and I will not deny that it is not difficult for me to keep myself, how shall I say, occupied. But now that I have met you, I wish to have no other women in my life - if I would be so lucky as to have you in my life.”
“Well,” I started, almost stunned into wordlessness. “I don’t usually rush into things, with men or in any other area of my life. I hardly know you. But we’ll see where this leads.”
“That is all I can ask. Now, I shall leave you to prepare for the evening.” He swept out of the room.
Is this guy for real? I asked myself for the umpteenth time. I’d heard of love at first sight, but wasn’t it usually silly teenage girls who fell for that sort of nonsense? You can’t love someone, much less know that you want them in your life forever, when you’ve only known them a few short days. Can you?
Then again, I was having some pretty crazy thoughts myself. Dreams of marriage, being ridiculously attracted to a near stranger, the inability to control my thoughts and keep my head out of the clouds whenever Vittorio was near.
Whenever he was near. I felt more in control of myself now that he wasn’t in the room with me. Was it magic? I believed in the possibility. Just because there was no proof of magic didn’t mean it wasn’t real. My job had taught me to keep an open mind.
When I finished showering, I heard a knock at the bathroom door.
“Miss, would you like help with your hair?” a female voice said.
I hadn’t planned on doing anything with it. I wasn’t very good at hair styles. “Um, alright.” I opened the door, wearing a robe I found in the bathroom, and a tall, pretty woman of about thirty with honey blonde hair and a flawless complexion came in.
“I’m Sarah, Vittorio’s assistant.”
What else did she help him with, I wondered? The thought must have shown on my face.
“It’s all business between us. Please don’t be jealous.”
I was usually so good at hiding my thoughts. What was it about Vittorio that left me so open and raw? “I’m sorry. Thank you for offering to help. Whenever I try to do anything fancier than a blow dry, I end up looking like the Bride of Frankenstein.”
An hour later my hair was beautifully swept up on top of my head, half of it left trailing down my back in thick curls. My makeup was done and I was dressed and ready to go. I felt beautiful. I had to admit the saleslady was right about the matching undergarments. They made me feel incredibly sexy, and knowing I looked good through and through gave me an extra boost of confidence.
Sarah led me downstairs to a study where Vittorio sat reading an old, leather-bound book. He stood when I entered the room. He was richly dressed in a gothic tuxedo with a hint of shine. A deep purple satin shirt matched the detail in my dress. His long hair flowed freely down his back, and a silver ring with a deep purple stone glinted on his finger.
I caught my breath, stunned by his beauty. Surely I was in a dream. No real man was this perfect.
Vittorio seemed equally as stunned by me. He paused and stared at me for a moment, then glided toward me and took both my hands in his. “Elena, you are stunning. You shall be the envy of everyone at The Chapel tonight.”
I regained a bit of composure. “What’s the special occasion? Why are we so dressed up?”
“Nothing special. I am only proud to have you with me.” He kissed the back of my hand. “Shall we go?”
I nodded. There had to be some reason for all this elegance. I followed Vittorio to his car, eager to learn more.