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By the time we reach the checkout counter, the staff has organized everything they have available in my size into bags and boxes that they’ve already started carrying to Vinny’s car.

“I’ll take these as well,” I say as I slide the lingerie onto the counter.

The woman behind the register quickly scans them and then turns the screen toward me. The total sits there in black digits—six of them, to be exact—and my hand goes still on the counter.

I’ve just spent more money than I can comprehend. This kind of money would go a long way toward my mom’s medical bills, or even at the church that’s always looking for donations.

And… I just spent a staggering amount on frivolous things instead of making a difference.

“Nope,” Carly says, startling me as she hip-bumps me. “We’re not doing that. I can see you spiraling, and I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it?” I laugh, hating how forced it sounds.

“Absolutely not,” she volleys. “Now hand over your credit card or I’ll call Domenico and tell on you.”

My hand shakes as I hand over the credit card to the woman who takes it without blinking. Vinny steps forward, his phone already out as he coordinates deliveries for the items they don’t have available in my size.

“These should be delivered to the penthouse,” he says, rattling off the address. “And Mr. DeLuca expects all the deliveries to be completed within two days.”

The woman behind the counter pales. “T-two days??” she gasps. “I’m not sure that’s possible—”

“If you can’t do it, Mrs. DeLuca won’t be back,” Vinny explains.

I look at Carly, who just shrugs and mouths, “What can you do?” or at least that’s what I think she’s conveying.

Feeling a little more confident, I square my shoulders and give the poor woman my number. “Call me directly if there’s a delay,” I say kindly. “I’m sure we can work it out.”

As soon as we’ve left the store, Carly turns toward me. “You handled that like a boss-lady. Watch out, Domenico. I believe he’s met his match,” she cackles.

“That was exhausting,” I say, changing the subject.

She laughs. “It gets easier. The first time Gio handed me a card and told me to go nuts, I bought a set of towels and came home.”

“Just towels?”

“Just towels. He looked at me like I’d lost my mind.” She hooks her arm through mine. “There’s a café two blocks from here. Let’s get lunch before I have to return you to your husband.”

We start walking. Vinny falls into step behind us, close enough to hear if I call for him, far enough that it doesn’t feel like he’s listening.

Café Luce smells like every good thing I’ve ever eaten—roast coffee and warm bread, and garlic from the kitchen where the door swings open every thirty seconds. White tile floors, small round tables that aren’t too close together.

As I look around, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever go places like this with Domenico. Somehow, I can’t imagine him as the casual lunch goer. I mean, that’s never been me before, though, admittedly, that’s because I’ve never had the money to do it.

If money’s no longer an object, I want it. And, I’d want to go with my husband. Maybe not to cafés if that’s not his style. But restaurants, the movies… things like that.

“Keep up,” Carly laughs, and I realize I’ve come to a complete stop.

Shaking my head, I follow her to the corner table by the window. Vinny sits near the door, his back to the wall, his eyes on the entrance.

As soon as we’re seated, I pull my phone out to text Domenico. I can’t help laughing when I see he has changed his name on my phone.

Me

Do you like cafés?

Daddy

Are you asking in general? Or are you wanting to know if Café Luce is any good?