A Little Slice of Heaven

by Gina Ardito

  “So how about a hug for your old man to show him how much you missed him?”

  “I did miss you!” She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed with all her might. “Welcome home, Dad! Where’s Mom?”

  After retaliating with a hug tight enough to leave her breathless, her father stepped back and shrugged. “You know your mother. She made friends with another couple on the flight home. Now they’re exchanging phone numbers and email addresses over there.”

  He pointed to a row of hard plastic seats a few yards away. Sure enough, there was her mother, sporting a fresh tan. And a new hairstyle. Amazing. Some brave hairdresser in Italy had risked life and limb to tame Mom’s unruly black curls into a chin-length bob, giving her face a pixie-like appearance that perfectly matched her tiny stature.

  She wore a new outfit. A tailored white jacket and slacks—imagine, Mom in slacks—with a sapphire silk blouse. She looked like a completely different woman than the mother Gianna had known since birth. As a matter of fact, the only familiar features she recognized were the slender hands. As she spoke to an orange-haired woman and bald man, Mom let her hands fly to emphasize.

  Gianna guessed the couple to be in their mid-to-late-sixties. In contrast, Mom looked decades younger than her fifty-five years. Good genes, Mom replied whenever someone remarked upon her youthful appearance. All the Maldonado women have them.

  “C’mon.” Dad sighed as he grabbed her elbow. “She knows you’re here. You may as well get the torture over.”

  Queasiness always assailed Gianna when Mom interfered in her dating life, or lack thereof. Today would prove no exception. While nausea bulleted up her throat, she dug in her heels. “No. I can’t.”

  “Of course you can. She’s been bragging about you since Portofino. You can’t cheat her of the opportunity to show off her bright, beautiful daughter.”

  “Her bright, beautiful, single daughter,” she corrected. “I bet she’ll mention the lack of grandchildren again.”

  “She’ll mention the lack of grandchildren whether you’re there or not. But if you start to get in over your head, I’ll steer the conversation into safer waters before you drown. Deal?”

  Good old Daddy, always on her side. “Deal.” She linked her arm through his. “Meanwhile, tell me all about the trip. Don’t leave anything out. I want to know everything you saw, everything you did. Tell me about the prettiest place in the whole country, the best food, the nicest hotel accommodations—all of it!”

  “We have the ride home to discuss the trip. And your mom will want to give her opinions on the subject anyway. Why don’t you tell me about our newest employee instead? Kyle, was it?”

  The mere mention of his name sent a river of heat to flood her cheeks, and she looked away before Dad’s sharp gaze could notice. “Mmm-hmm. Kyle Hayden.”

  “Where’d you meet him?”

  “At the restaurant,” she replied.

  “Oh? Did you post a help wanted sign in the window?”

  Her focus remained on the blue uniform of a security guard standing nearby. Her father would kill her if he knew the truth. Still, she couldn’t lie. “No, I found him through sheer luck. He happened to show up looking for a job when we were in need of an employee.”

  “Divine providence, eh? Well, good. I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

  Her mother’s screech of, “There she is!” saved Gianna from continuing their conversation. But at what cost? Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the lioness’s den.

  “Gianna, sweetheart, how are you?”

  “Hi, Mom.” She embraced her mother with a slight hesitancy. Someone famous had once said mothers and daughters didn’t get along because they competed for male affection. In Gianna’s case, the distance came more from competing for dating independence. “Welcome home. How was the trip?”

  “Later, Gi, later. First, I’d like you to meet Hal and Mavis Nestor. They’re from Astoria. Hal, Mavis, this is my daughter, Gianna. The teacher.”

  Gianna smiled and shook hands with the couple. “Hello, nice to meet you.”

  “Pleasure,” Hal said.

  “So, Lucia tells us you’re not married,” Mavis greeted her.

  Wow! Five seconds. A new Lucia Randazzo record!

  “Hal and Mavis have a son,” Mom hinted with the subtlety of a tractor trailer’s air horn. “He’s single, thirty, and manages a software company in Queens.”

  Could she possibly rewind the last few minutes and hide in the crowd around the baggage carousel? Maybe she could climb onto one of those conveyor belts and stow away on the plane. Take a flight to someplace safe, like Rome or Milan or the front lines of combat.

  “I’ve given Mavis your telephone number so her Robbie can give you a call,” her mother persisted. “Who knows? Maybe you two will hit it off.”

  “Mom,” she whispered through gritted teeth, “please.”

  Mom’s doe eyes widened in feigned innocence. “What? Would it hurt to meet him?”

  “I’m not looking to meet anyone right now.”

  “But that’s what makes this perfect! Haven’t I always told you ‘when you’re not looking for your Prince Charming, he’ll appear?’ And,” she added in a low whisper, “even if he isn’t Prince Charming, he might have a friend who is.”

  Could the floorboards open up and swallow her whole? Please? “Yes, but—”

  While the floorboards refused to cooperate, Dad took on the hero role.

  “Lucia, cara, we really should get going. We’ve a long drive ahead of us.”

  “Oh, all right. Mavis, I’ll be in touch, and we’ll set something up soon.”

  “Safe home, Lucia,” Mavis replied.

  Relief poured into Gianna’s veins as her mother turned toward the airport’s exit. “Nice to have met you,” she managed to say to the Nestors as she followed her parents on trembling legs.

  She’d just dodged a bullet. But the barrage didn’t end because the Nestors and their “single, thirty-year-old, software company owning son, Robbie” were out of sight.

  “Honestly, Gianna,” her mother said as they walked to short term parking. “You could have been friendlier to the Nestors. What will they tell their son about you?”

  “I really don’t care what they tell their son, Mom. I’m capable of finding my own dates.”

  “Since when?”

  She dropped a step behind her mother before rolling her eyes. The last thing she needed now was a, “Don’t give me that look,” lecture.

  “Speaking of dates,” Dad the Hero bravely stepped into the fray, “what happened with Frank’s wedding? Are you going?”

  The subject should have depressed her even more, but oddly, knowing she had Kyle to accompany her lightened her mood considerably. The heat returned to her cheeks full-force. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’m going with Kyle.”

  “Kyle?” Mom’s interest piqued. A sculpted eyebrow arched in Gianna’s direction, and when she spoke again, newfound hope tinged her voice with softness. “Our new employee, Kyle?”

  “Yes, that’s him.”

  “You know, Claudio says he’s working out nicely. And if you’re also dating him…” Mom stroked her chin. “Maybe you can find a man on your own after all…”

  Yeah, sure. So long as you don’t ask where.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gianna, with Hayley in tow, climbed out of the taxi in front of Bergdorf Goodman’s mansard-style building. Beautifully festooned windows flanked the main entrance. Behind a sheet of glass, mannequins dripped colorful gowns, scarves, and feathers from their perfect forms. Peacocks in full regalia scattered around expensive Italian shoes in a rain forest background. A sci-fi motif, complete with a platinum robot wearing a diamond- encrusted bra and matching panties decorated another. Smaller windows revealed displays of delicate porcelain vases and carved figurines bedecked in red or black velvet.

  Gianna took a shaky breath. A wisp of vapor escaped her lips, melding with the cool morning air to form a silver
stream. A shiver gripped her shoulders, but from nervousness or cold, she couldn’t guess.

  A tall, slender blonde stepped out, ignoring the uniformed doormen standing sentry on either side. Calculating blue eyes focused on Gianna. An urge to dive back into the safety of the taxi overwhelmed her, but Hayley must have sensed her growing apprehension and clutched her elbow to keep her pinned to the pavement.

  “Ms. Randazzo?”

  She recognized the twangy voice from the telephone call two weeks ago. “Y-yes. I-I’m Gianna Randazzo.”

  “I thought so. I’m very pleased to meet you,” the ice princess said, offering her hand. “I’m Lucinda Barrows. Welcome to Bergdorf’s.”

  “Thank you.” After shaking the outstretched hand, she gestured to Hayley. “I hope you don’t mind. I brought a friend.”

  “Of course, I don’t mind.” Lucinda Barrows extended a hand toward Hayley. “I’m Lucinda Barrows. And you are?”

  “Hayley Jeffords.” A toss of thick, golden hair communicated the not-so-subtle message, Back off. I don’t need your help like this pathetic schlub does.

  Lucinda Barrows must have caught the gist of Hayley’s message because she gave a one-shoulder shrug, and then returned her attention to Gianna. “Well, Ms. Randazzo, Ms. Jeffords, shall we go inside and begin our day?”

  Without waiting for a reply, Ms. Barrows swept into the building. Gianna followed with Hayley at her side, two lost sheep in Eden. What the hell was she doing? She didn’t belong in this place. Bergdorf’s catered to the Fifth Avenue and Central Park West crowd. Not to some Long Island pretender who wanted to show up a rival. Prices here went beyond exorbitant to border on ridiculous. Without the sweepstakes prize she’d received, she couldn’t afford a soft drink in the restaurant here.

  With her legs trembling, she barely made her way past the doormen. Then a saleswoman stepped into her path, a crystal flacon in hand. “Care to try Golden Fields? A new signature fragrance by—”

  “Not now, Angelique.” Ms. Barrows waved off the saleswoman. “These ladies are with me.”

  Ms. Barrows’s squarish high heels click-clacked over the polished floor in direct rhythm to the beating of Gianna’s heart. Rapid, puncturing sounds echoed in the relative quiet of both cavernous spaces.

  “I swear to God, she’s got the nose of an anteater,” Hayley whispered.

  Despite her growing apprehension, Gianna snickered. Bringing Hayley, something she’d hesitated to do, had actually been a smart move. Hayley’s warm and soothing presence provided a buffer from Ms. Barrows’s frosty façade.

  “Where shall we start?” Ms. Barrows turned to ask. “Are you looking for an entire day-to-day collection? From the skin out? Shall we begin with lingerie?”

  “What I really want,” she said hesitantly, “is one stunning outfit. I have a wedding to attend this evening, and I want to…” God, this sounds so stupid. “I want to outshine the bride.”

  “The groom never bothered to tell Gianna he was two-timing her,” Hayley added.

  Gianna shot her friend an “I-can’t-believe-you-told-her” look, but Hayley’s return expression communicated, “What? It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  Where’s a black hole when you need one?

  A smile cracked through Ms. Barrows’s frozen face, giving her a human mien. “Ah, I know exactly what you’re saying. I had a similar situation a few years back. The heartless snake I was dating turned out to be married. I found out when his wife invited me to his surprise thirty-fifth birthday party. She found my name in his address book under ‘Lou.’ Thought I was a golfing buddy.”

  “Nice,” Hayley remarked dryly.

  “Mmm,” Ms. Barrows replied. “I only wish I’d had the nerve to attend and watch the worm squirm all night. So for you, Ms. Randazzo, who does have the nerve, we’ll begin in the Artisan department on the fourth floor. After you’ve found the proper dress, we’ll shop for foundation garments and accessories. Come along.”

  Nerve? Yeah, attempting to outshine the bride required a lot of nerve. As well as the maturity level of a preschooler. Seriously reconsidering her sanity, Gianna remained rooted to the floor.

  One sharp elbow jab, and Hayley nudged her forward. “Stop looking like you’re on your way to an execution. This is supposed to be fun. Remember?”

  “Yeah, right. Fun.” Instead of this shopping spree, she should’ve scheduled a CT scan. Over the last month, her brain had gone on the fritz. And today, she’d taken Hayley along for the ride. Guilt overwhelmed her, and she turned to her best friend. “You sure you don’t want this prize?”

  “No way. This is your day, Gi. Your day and your night. I’m only here to make sure you don’t chicken out.”

  She quirked a brow. “Am I that obvious?”

  “To me you are.”

  Suspicion crept up Gianna’s spine like the itsy-bitsy spider. “You paid for all of this, didn’t you? There is no sweepstakes or eightieth anniversary or anything.”

  Blue mascaraed lashes fluttered innocently against candy box cheeks. “Would you care either way?”

  Would she? Well...sort of. “You know I can’t pay you back.”

  “Who asked for payback?”

  “No one, but—”

  “Then stop asking. Accept you’ve been given a fantastic gift, and leave it at that. Okay?”

  Gaze pinned to her feet, Gianna sighed. “You’ll never tell, will you?”

  “Nope.”

  A little foot shuffle. “Then I guess I’ll have to drop the subject.”

  “Yup.”

  “Come along, you two!” Ms. Barrows stood before the escalator, arms folded over her chest and the toes of one foot tapping impatiently against the tile floor. “We have a great deal to do. Let’s not dilly-dally.”

  At the woman’s disapproving tone, visions of junior high school wafted through Gianna’s memory. “Doesn’t she remind you of our eighth grade math teacher, Mrs. Farris?”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” Hayley replied with a snort. “Come on. Let’s not give her a reason to keep us after school.”

  The fourth floor was a designer’s wonderland. The moment Gianna stepped off the escalator, another woman appeared by her side.

  But this time, Ms. Barrows did not wave her away. “Renee, Ms. Randazzo is looking for a dress for an evening wedding. Something chic, yet elegant.” She tilted her head toward Gianna, enhancing the anteater look when a shadow fell across her sharp nose. “Where is the wedding to take place?”

  “At the Crystal Palace in Sea Cove Harbor.”

  Ms. Barrows nodded, her brow etched in thought. “Something vivid then. That’s to our advantage since, with your coloring, jewel tones work best. Sapphire, ruby, emerald.”

  “Her figure seems perfect for Donna Karan,” the woman named Renee chimed in as she walked around Gianna in a perfect circle, eyeing her up and down.

  “Yes, I believe you’re right,” Ms. Barrows said, appraising her in the same clinical manner. “We’ll start with Donna Karan and move on from there. By the time we’re finished, Ms. Randazzo, you’ll outshine every bride from here to San Diego.”

  ****

  Hours later, supple fingers soothed the tension from Gianna’s neck and shoulders with skillful grace. A warm towel covered her bare body from waist to knees while grapefruit-scented oil soaked into her pores. God, this treatment was heavenly! No wonder women made regular appointments at spas and salons. The tension of the last few weeks—the anxiety about tonight, the frustration over the daycare center—all melted away as she gave herself over to Sonja’s experienced hands.

  “So you haven’t seen Kyle in over a week?”

  Hayley’s question shook her from the sun-covered citrus grove where her mind played. Brow furrowed, she turned to Hayley who reclined on the adjoining table, receiving similar treatment. “No. Not since Mom and Dad came home. But we spoke on the phone yesterday. Why?”

  “No reason,” Hayley replied. “I’m just curious. You like him,
don’t you?”

  “Of course I like him.” She frowned. “I wouldn’t be going with him tonight if I didn’t like him.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I mean, you like him-like him. Don’t try to deny it. Every time someone mentions his name your cheeks turn all pink.” Hayley pointed at her face. “Just like that.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Bull.”

  Okay, so maybe her face got a little pink and she had trouble remembering her name when he was around. That didn’t mean she liked him-liked him. For all she knew, she had some kind of allergic reaction to him, to his cologne, or his toothpaste. Oh, who was she kidding? Still, barely able to admit her feelings to herself, she was hardly ready to admit anything to Hayley.

  “You know what?” she said instead. “If you want to enjoy the rest of the massage my prize money is paying for, you’ll change the subject. Otherwise I’ll go back to Bergdorf’s and ring up five hundred dollars’ worth of shoes.” One pair ought to fill the bill. Hell, with the prices she’d seen, she’d be lucky to get one shoe for five hundred dollars.

  “Okay,” Hayley said on a sigh. “But I’m gonna say one more thing first. I like him, too, Gi.”

  “Good for you.” Gianna feigned nonchalance, but inside, her stomach clenched. How exactly did Hayley like him? Did she like him-like him? Or was Hayley simply offering her approval if Gianna decided to pursue him?

  Not, of course, that she would. Just because she liked him didn’t mean she liked him-liked him.

  “God, I wish I were going tonight.” Hayley’s wistful tone prickled her bare flesh. “You have to promise to tell me every detail first thing tomorrow morning. Before you tell anyone else.”

  The masseuse hit a tender spot in her neck, and she groaned. “I will, I promise.”

  “You’d better.”

  “I said I would. Now would you please drop the subject?” The words came out a little too terse, but Gianna wouldn’t apologize. What did Hayley want anyway? A blood oath?