“What about this one?” Angelina waved to a black Chanel dress.
“Too short. I’m almost sixty. I can’t wear that.” Joy rolled her eyes. Beads of sweat formed on her chest. “It’s causing a hot flash.” She fanned herself.
Angelina chuckled. She spoke Italian to the manager, who brought out a Michael Kors dress with a dangerous side slit. “And this?”
Joy didn’t cringe, but she didn’t smile either. “That could work.”
“Go.” She ordered Joy to the dressing room and handed her a pair of black Jimmy Choo pointed toe pumps.
Inside the dressing room, Joy stared at the dress, wondering how she would work her way into it. Here went nothing.
To her surprise, the dress slid onto her form perfectly, and the shoes, tight at the toes, fit too. How on earth did she know my size? Joy zipped up the dress and smoothed it out with her hands. Studying herself in the mirror, she nodded.
“Well?” Angelina asked.
“Not bad.” Joy spun around. “Not bad at all.”
“It had better be for that price.”
The price? Joy unzipped it, then searched for the price tag. When she saw it, she plopped down onto the bench in the dressing room. “Good grief.”
“What is it?”
“This dress costs as much as my first car did.” Joy stared with her mouth agape.
“Adiamo. Jewelry is next.”
Walking through the doorway of the Viva Verona Ristorante, Joy adjusted her shoulders and stared straight ahead at all the patrons drinking and chatting. Wearing the very expensive black Michael Kors dress with a side slit that made her nervous, Joy did her best to be confident.
“Don’t worry.” Angelina winked. “You look like a million dollars, darling.”
“No, you look like a million dollars.” Joy blinked. “I look like five hundred thousand dollars.”
Angelina laughed. “It’s the perfect little black dress for you, Joy.”
“I suppose.” She reached up and adjusted the braided gold necklace and earrings to match. But the new shoes were a little too tight.
“Stop fidgeting and relax. This will be fun.” Angelina slipped her arm into Joy’s. “Ready?”
Joy swallowed, then nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Tony appeared in the back and waved his hand.
There he is. Joy smiled and waved back.
But when Alessandro stood before them, her heart skipped a beat and the blood rushed to her head.
Tony lowered his hand and frowned.
“Buona notte,” Alessandro said with both hands over his heart. “You look . . . bellissima.”
“Doesn’t she though?” Angelina squeezed Joy’s arm. “Let’s get some wine.”
“Grazie. And you look very handsome tonight, Alex.” Joy batted her eyes.
Dressed smartly in a white button-down shirt with a dark jacket and slacks, he looked like a different man to her.
“Come this way. I have a table for all of us in the back.” He gently touched her arm and guided her through the crowd.
Angelina made her way to the bar and ordered two glasses of wine. When she returned, a man bumped into her and spilled some wine. “Stupido.” She scowled.
“I don’t think any wine got on your jumpsuit,” Joy said.
Angelina's classic beauty captivated her and everyone in the place. With her long dark hair cascading around her shoulders, brown eyes accentuated by false eyelashes and black kohl eyeliner, and full lips painted a red that perfectly complemented her red Versace jumpsuit—complete with plunging neckline—she bore a striking resemblance to the renowned actress sharing her name, Angelina Jolie. Joy observed how heads turned as Angelina glided through the bar area, effortlessly drawing the attention of the men—and women—around her.
Filled with envy, Joy followed closely behind her. Not envious of her beauty or youth, but of Angelina’s confidence.
Be confident, Joy. She straightened her posture. You can do this.
“Here we are,” she said when they arrived at the back room filled with Alessandro’s family and friends. “Ciao!”
“Ciao, bella,” her friends replied.
“Joy,” Tony said from behind her.
“Hello.” She turned. “Isn’t this a lovely restaurant?”
