"Period problems, I couldn’t find my tampon anywhere up there. Blood was everywhere, it was such a mess," I shrug unapologetically. They look uncomfortable as we brush past them. With Gianna on my arm, we go back to our table and finish our lunch.
It's been almost two years and I have still yet to see Nicoli again. Maybe he called the deal off. Maybe he doesn't want me anymore. I mean it would make sense. I will be turning eighteen tomorrow and haven't seen him once. Nor have I heard of or from him in two years.
That's not to say that me and Gianna haven't been keeping tabs on him though. Every now and again we have been looking him up in the New York tabloids, trying to see what he has been doing.
Superficial looking fake-ass blondes. That is exactly what he is doing. An unwelcome surge of jealousy sweeps over me as I recall all the women we have seen with him. I don’t know where he finds so many of them but this man practically has a new one each week. I was able to just blow it off until I started to notice one blonde, in particular, she reoccurred every couple of women or so.
Every time I saw her make another appearance with him jealously burned at me, even though I have no idea why. It is not like I want to be with him, but does the fucker really have to screw his way through all of New York. I mean I know we are not publicly engaged, but does respect mean nothing to this asshole? I have not heard from or seen him in two years. Dario was right, he does not give a shit about me.
You shouldn’t care. I chastise myself. You're not marrying for love, if he even marries you at all. What if the whole thing has been called off though? Maybe that is why he hasn’t reached out or come to see me. Maybe that is why he is with other women. Self pity begins to wiggles its way into my head. Just another person who doesn’t want me in their life.
I begin to wonder what my father will do with me now. I have had multiple offers for marriage but my father has turned them all down. Thank goodness. I couldn't imagine having to marry one of those old men. The thought makes me shudder with disgust. Some are older than my father! And I would be expected to have sex with and please them, produce them heirs. Gross. The thought makes me internally gag.
Pulling from my thoughts, I decide I need a distraction from my unsavory speculations. Grabbing my phone, I dial Gianna. She answers on the first ring. “What’s up girl?”
“Nothing really, want to go shopping today? I need some retail therapy to take my mind off things.”
Knowing exactly what things my mind needs taking off of, she jumps at the opportunity. Shopping is a habitual activity for Gianna. "Do you even have to ask me?” She laughs into the phone. “Grab your shit, I’ll swing by to pick you up in thirty.” Not giving me time to respond, she hangs up as I go to get ready and gather my things.
I am still accompanied by three guards at all times. My fathers way of ensuring I don’t do anything stupid and nothing happens to me to risk Nicoli's wrath. So I assume this means the deal is still on? If it weren't my father would have pulled his men not having ever particularly cared about me or my safety before.
Heading to the boutiques Gianna loves, we go inside forgetting about the men watching over us. Browsing through racks and racks of clothing, we take a bunch to the fitting rooms to try on. We try on a variety of clothing ranging from sultry to ridiculous just to get a laugh out of each other. My earlier thoughts were soon forgotten. Each outfit becomes a game, as we try to one up each other's last ones.
I am about to come out in a white pantsuit accompanied by a hellacious amount of ruffles that no single article of clothing should be allowed to adorn, looking like a fucking clown. I open the curtain as Gianna pulls her back at the same time revealing her outfit as well. It's a fuzzy looking cropped sweater that looks like it came straight off a sheep's back, paired with some high waisted yellow shorts that are neon enough to blind my eyes. We both fall into a fit of giggles at our childish game. Holding her hands up Gianna concedes. "Okay, okay I'm done. Don't think we can top these this time. I call a draw because as bad as mine is yours is fucking horrible. You look like you belong to a circus." She laughs again and I find myself grinning from ear to ear at her infectious attitude. We go back to shopping only this time picking out and trying on things we actually might want.
Sitting down from lunch, taking a break from our shopping spree I can tell Gianna is about to get serious with me. “So what caused this bout of retail therapy today? Is it because your birthday is coming up?” Playing with my fries as I try to decide what to admit.
“Yes, partially.”
“Aaaannnnddd??” She draws out.
“And...I looked him up again. He is with that woman again.” Feeling absolutely ridiculous admitting it out loud that it bothers me.
Sympathy on her face. “Babe, don’t let it get to
