Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was a little after ten in the morning when Dani arrived at her hotel. She tossed her purse on the table, announced her presence for which she got no response, then stripped off her clothes, wishing she could erase the night.

Toni had said she would be bad press. It took everything she had not to lash out or, God forbid, cry. Instead, she declined Marcello's offer, kissed her mentor and Sophia, then walked out and hailed a taxi to the hotel, trying to forget the way Toni looked at her.

Because he was right. That blog had shredded the little reputation she'd had and made Andre look like a saint for allowing her to work with him. No one deserved that type of press at a restaurant opening. She was embarrassed and took solace knowing she probably wouldn't see Toni again.

Her shower was heaven and the power nap she took made her feel refreshed enough to actually look forward to her mother's Chanel show later that night. Dani found her laminated event pass on the table, along with a note.

Danica, here is your pass. Show this at the door. The show starts at 7. I tried to get you something Chanel to wear but there was no time. I hope you brought something fabulous.

Dani rolled her eyes, deciding not to be annoyed by the Chanel comment. Chanel didn't have her size, as her mother well knew. But Dani did have something fabulous and she hurried to her suitcase and pulled out the black Zac Posen tea-length evening dress to air it out. It was beautiful. Black satin with long sleeves and a high neck. Dani fingered the sleek fabric as she adjusted it on a hanger. She had an idea to pull her hair back in a wet look like in those Robert Palmer videos, or like Trinity in The Matrix. She turned the dress around to inspect it and lost her breath. A large discoloration was splattered across the back.

"You have got to be kidding me." After a thorough inspection of the stain and her suitcase, she found an exploded bottle of benzoyl peroxide face cleanser laying waste to several of her clothes. She wanted to scream. Or die. Or both. The dress she wore to Marcello's restaurant lay in a plastic bag and smelled like food and body odor. The Posen was the only other dress she had brought...and it had been expensive.

She slumped on the couch. If this were Pretty Woman she could call downstairs and have someone find her a suitable dress, except she wasn't Julia Roberts, nor a size four. Her gaze landed on the clock. Her idea to relax and order room service before the show just got shot out of the water. She picked up the phone and dialed the concierge, who was not only appalled by her plight, but ready to drop his post at the hotel and go shopping with her. David, her new bestie, practically pulled her by the elbow to Via Montenapoleone. Dani hadn't done much designer shopping as a poor young sous-chef, but the Quadrilatero d'Oro or "rectangle of gold" was famous for its haute couture and Montenapoleone was one of its most famous streets.

They passed by Dior, Louis Vuitton and Prada before slowing in front of a posh-looking boutique. The glass exterior revealed well-dressed mannequins, racks of sparkling pieces along the back wall and a staircase to a second floor of shoes.

David embraced a tall man in an impeccable suit who was smoking outside. He threw the lit bud to the concrete when he saw Dani.

"Miss Nilsson. Welcome. Welcome! David said you have an emergency. I'm Fredrick, at your service. Sei davvero bravo!" Fredrick yelled to David, who took off before Dani knew what was happening.

"Um, hello, I need—"

"A dress. I know. I have several already racked. Come, come."

"But..." How did she put this. "I kinda just wanted to walk around a bit and see if anything strikes me."

Fredrick looked her up and down. "Madonna, with all do respect. Many don't carry larger sizes. I, however, do. And these dresses are magnifico. You will look incredible, I can already tell."

Flattered, Dani followed Fredrick inside, then frowned when he locked the door behind them.

"You usually lock the door?"

"We aren't usually open during lunchtime, but I made an exception for David. Fashion emergencies are the best kind. Now—" Fredrick grabbed the sparkly dress rack and wheeled it her way. He held up a strapless gold lamé mermaid dress. "Let's get started."

An hour later she had gotten through only half the rack.

She stood in front of a full-length mirror in an eggplant-colored sleeveless cocktail dress with a plunging halter neckline and no back.

"Yes!" Fredrick shouted.

"No," Dani said back.

"Let your hair down," commanded the shopkeeper. She had put it up for the last dress, now it was coming down again. She remembered why she barely shopped, it was exhausting. Curling waves hit her shoulders. "Yes!"

"I'm naked, Fredrick."

"We'll put gold shimmer lotion on your skin..." He clapped his hands.

She shook her head and tugged on the neckline, which was showing too much side boob. "My breasts are out!"

"Of course. That's the style. They look fabulous! If I had a bosom like this I would show them to the world. The world must see this bosom."

Dani looked at herself. She could just see herself tripping and executing a Janet Jackson nip slip. Suddenly she envisioned Toni looking at her, his hand sliding inside the fabric to her naked breast. This was a "fuck me" dress, and after what happened that morning, that was never happening again. You know what else was never happening? Letting a man dictate her career. She needed to talk to Marcello again.

"I don't think so, Fredrick. Next dress. We have to hurry, I have one more stop to make."

Finally, she found a dress, received a much-needed pep talk from Marcello at the hospital, and got ready at the hotel, making it to the show just in time. The venue was buzzing with editors, photographers, bloggers and celebrities; all were talking one second and posing for a selfie the next. Dani flashed her pass and took her seat smack in the middle of the auditorium and only three rows from the stage. She ran a hand over her loose curling hair and adjusted her dress, a purple satin halter with a plunging neckline and gold heels. Fredrick had her so gassed she fell in love with the dress, but now, surrounded by the glitterati, she felt out of place.

The back of Anna Wintour's famous bob was down and to the left, while André Leon Talley's fur-clad shoulders were blocking everyone behind him to her right. For a second the lights dimmed and camera phone flashes burst through the dark like exploding stars. Then the stage exploded in music and a warm glow as young Amazon women began to prance down the runway like Thoroughbreds.

Dani couldn't get over how sleek the models were. No Photoshop or flattering camera angles. These women were slim goddesses. A woman in front of her held her camera in the air for video as a stunning blonde emerged in a gown. The crowd roared and chatter around her was peppered with "she looks great" and "she's still got it." Dani couldn't place the model, but in seconds it didn't matter. The music changed and her mother appeared on the stage.

Francesca's slower, stately walk created elegant movement in the gold taffeta and leather-corseted gown she wore. Her skin glistened with baby oil and she wore a pink wig piled high on her head. Marie Antoinette meets Grace Jones?

"Damn, I hope I look like that when I'm old," someone whispered.

"You wished you looked like that now," another said. "Is she really fifty?"

André Leon Talley threw a props snap in the air.

Her mother walked amid cheers and applause several times during the show, and by the end, Dani felt pride for her mother. They didn't always see eye to eye, and Francesca would never win a Mother of the Year award, but her mother never gave up on her dreams or her career, and for that she was inspiring. Dani had a dream of running her own kitchen and she'd made a decision earlier that day that would get her closer to that dream. Marcello had always told her that the best chefs pushed the limits. So that was what she was going to do.

Dani made her way backstage, weaving between tripods and news anchors praying the side of her face wasn't showing up in the background of interviews and photos. Models were half-naked, changing anywhere they could find a spot and vloggers were talking into their phones. She found her mother still in the last outfit she walked in, surrounded by industry people.

Dani recognized an older and slimmer Roberto, her mother's make-up artist and dearest friend, buzzing silently around her mother with makeup brushes. A pat of powder here, a spritz there. Feeling like an eight-year-old again, Dani turned back toward the throng of people with the intention of texting her mother and heading back to their hotel.

"Daaanicaaa!" Roberto came toward her with his arms stretched wide. His hug was hot and sweaty, but welcome. It had been a long time. "Let me look at you!" He gave her a dramatic once-over. "Belissima."

Dani smiled a thank-you and tried to hide how uncomfortable she felt standing in the throng of size zeros.

"She did well tonight, Right?" Dani said.

"Oh! It was like 1985 all over again. She is fierce on that stage, like a panther." Roberto bared his teeth and clawed the air. Dani smothered a laugh.

"Well, she looks busy with press. Can you tell her I'm heading back to the hotel? And that I'm really proud of her?"

"No. No. No. Mommy dearest said you have to come to the after party." He handed her another pass. "Then you can tell her how proud you are yourself. Addio, bella." He clapped his hands and kissed her cheek before disappearing through the crowd.

After party? The address on the card said the Armani Ristorante. There were three restaurants Dani loved to visit when she was in Milan and the Armani was one of them. She wondered if Martin still managed the place and felt her heart flutter. Martin had been a line cook and her first real boyfriend. She thought about their goodbye kiss years ago and then wondered if a taxi would be the quickest way there.

Where the hell was she? Toni prowled round the bar at the Armani Ritsorante and downed his second complimentary champagne. Sliding by a server, he switched out his empty flute with a full one and took another swig.

Ava's call took him by surprise. She wanted to talk...about what? And why here in this crowded space? He plucked a few crudités from the buffet table and blew out a frustrated breath. She had a way of manipulating him that he didn't see coming until after the fact, like tonight. He'd agreed only to talk, the next thing you knew he was arranging a babysitter for Sophia and going to the show. Watching her walk the show had brought back memories, good and bad. As did the Armani. Maybe that's why he was in a mood. The back couches were where they had gotten engaged.

A woman approached with a smile and an inviting gaze that ran down his body. He nodded politely, uninterested but conscious of offending the lady, and turned away. Dark eyes, generous hips and a floral tattoo had been haunting him all day. As did the look on her face when he protested her working at the restaurant. It wasn't his finest moment and all he could think of was begging her forgiveness, then making passionate love to her.

Toni chatted with the few people he knew by association, then sank into a couch in the back corner. He texted Sophia, who was at home with a babysitter, and smiled at the poo emoji she sent him. Because of the other night, he had vetoed her plans to go to the movies with her friends. They had yet to have their family talk, but the person he really needed to talk to was Ava. She needed a reminder that family was the most important thing in life. Not this charade, he thought, scanning the room of drunk fashionable people.

Speaking of which, he spied his ex-wife making her way through the crowd toward him. Her silver dress was as thin as tissue paper and hugged the slender contours of her body. Only a dead man would be able to look way, and yet the vision in front of him was blurred by years of painful baggage. He rose when she reached him and executed kisses on both of her cheeks. He was taken aback when her mouth slid to the corner of his on the last kiss.

Ava sat on the leather chair across from him and they exchanged pleasantries, with him congratulating her on the show, and her going into detail of the backstage antics. He sipped his champagne and nodded at the fluctuations of her voice. She hadn't mentioned leaving Sophia home alone, or the text he had sent, to which she had never replied. As usual, she hadn't inquired into his life, something he hadn't realized until after they'd married.

As she spoke, his gaze shifted as another barrage of people entered the bar and he glimpsed a shining cascade of black curly hair moving tentatively through the throng. Danica? She wore a purple satin dress that showed lots of skin and hugged her soft womanly curves. The tattoo on her arm looked like a wild accessory. He blinked as she wet her red lips and leaned over the bar to speak to the bartender.

"Are you listening to me?" Ava frowned.

Toni shifted his gaze back to his ex. He hadn't been, but answered with a confident, "Of course."

"Well, would you like to?"

Oh God, what was she saying? "I don't know..." What you are talking about?

"I think family dinners on Sunday would be nice for Sophia."

"Oh! I mean...you're right I think I can make it work."

He frowned as she stood and moved to sit next to him. "And then we can work on us too."

Suddenly the air in the space got thin. He took a gulp of champagne as she slid a hand on his thigh. He willed himself to relax. Ava could smell fear. And rejecting the mother of his daughter needed to be done with more finesse than a polite grin. He knew Ava, and as beautiful as she was, she was insecure. If she felt the tiniest bit rejected, she would try to hurt him by using Sophia.

He recalled how he went to court to stop her from taking Sophia to another country during their divorce. When he found out she still planned to leave, he promised her a generous monthly allowance if she stayed. He was still paying it.

Toni set down his glass and twisted toward her, taking her hand from his thigh and enclosing it in his.

"Ava, for Sophia's sake," he said as she leaned in and he dodged a kiss, "let's take this slow. We have to be sure this is what we want, no?" She tipped her face to his, her eyes glassy and unfocused. He inwardly sighed, suspecting she was on something.

"You want to be a family. So do I."

"We are a family. But you and I have history."

"History is good." Her other hand reached for his groin and he caught it and brought it to his lips.

"We need to know each other again. Let's start with the dinners," he pleaded.

"Don't you want me?" She pouted.

"You're very beautiful, Ava. Always." He was relieved at her smile. And he hoped this notion was a product of whatever drug she took, and that it would wear off along with the effects.

He let his guard down, satisfied that he had wriggled out of a bad situation, when she grabbed the back of his head and crushed her lips against his. His first instinct was to struggle, but that wouldn't go over well. He leaned into the kiss, ran his hands over her arms and tangled his fingers in her hair, then gently cupped her jaw and pulled his lips from hers.

Ava gazed at him with a triumphant smile. He gazed back under lowered lids, hoping his eyes didn't reveal how annoyed he was. He pulled back farther and looked over Ava's head, right into Dani's eyes.