“Fuck me. I don’t know what to say, but I can’t say I feel sorry for you.”
“Me neither, but sometimes I just think I don’t deserve all this.”
Olga got up from her seat, walked over to me, and placed her hands on my shoulders. What are you talking about?” she exclaimed, shaking me. “Laura, you’re with a millionaire, you love him, and he loves you! You give him all that he wants, and now you’re going to have his child. You don’t need to be as rich as he is to give him what he wants and needs. And if he wants to buy you all that stuff, where’s the problem? You’ve got to change your attitude!” She wagged a finger at me. “For him, spending ten grand is like buying bubble gum. Don’t try to compare your finances to his. It’s a whole different world.”
That actually sounded pretty logical.
“If you had as much cash as he has, wouldn’t you want to buy him everything?” she asked.
I nodded.
“So you see? Just be grateful for what you get and stop overthinking it. Now let’s get to sleep, Mommy. I’m exhausted.”
CHAPTER 20
The next day we had breakfast too late to even call it that. We spent the morning in bed, doing nothing until noon.
“You need to do me a favor,” I said, rolling to the side to look at Olga. “I’m going to see a gynecologist today, but the visit has been booked in your name, so you’re the patient. At least officially.”
Olga sent me a skeptical look, raising one eyebrow.
“I don’t know how deep Massimo’s control reaches. The plan is to tell him that you forgot your birth control pills and we had to go to the clinic. That way he won’t be suspicious of our visit to the clinic, if he checks where I am.”
Chewing a sweet roll and washing it down with coffee, Olga said, “You’re out of your fucking mind, you know that? He’ll learn about everything, but we can do it your way. Whatever.”
“Thanks. We’ll go to Taormina after my checkup. I want to buy my maid of honor some clothes. Besides, I need a wedding dress myself,” I said with a smile. “You know what that means?”
“Shopping!” Olga exclaimed, kicking her feet in the air, the sweet roll sticking out from her mouth.
“Massimo gave us a credit card, and we’re supposed to wipe the account clean. I’m a bit afraid of how much we’ll find there. Anyway, I’m going to call him now. I need to get this done.” I headed toward my favorite divan.
The Man in Black bought the story about Olga’s pills, only making sure it wasn’t anything serious aside from the birth control. He swiftly switched subjects, starting to talk about our wedding. He said we wouldn’t have a wedding party and that it would be a very private ceremony. At the end, he fell silent. Completely unlike him.
“Everything all right, Massimo?” I asked, suddenly anxious.
“Yeah. I just wish I were home already.”
“Only three more days and you’ll be back in Taormina.”
Silence was my answer. Finally, he sighed and whispered, “It’s not about the place, but the fact that you’re not with me. Home is where you are. I don’t care about the building, Laura. Especially since we also have an apartment in Palermo.”
We—it felt so good when he said it like that. I’d really started missing him, but only realized that when I’d dialed his number.
“I need to go, Laura. I might be off the grid until Friday, but don’t worry. Use the app in your phone if you feel the need.”
I returned to the table, hugging the phone.
“You really love him, don’t you? That’s a new one,” Olga said, rocking on her chair. “You hear his voice over the phone and you suddenly look like you’d give him a blow job through the receiver if only that was an option.”
“Oh shut up and come on. Let’s find something pretty in my closet. After we’re done with the gynecologist, we’re going to spend some cash, so let’s look like Vogue babes.”
Rummaging through my things took us too much time. If not for Domenico, I would have been late to my appointment.
We stopped in the doorway, ready to go out. I put on the same boots as before, the black ones, with a black bandeau dress. Olga chose the “rich hooker” style, putting on the shortest possible high-hipped white Chanel shorts that barely covered her butt and a top of the same color. To finish it off, she selected a pair of enormously tall Giuseppe Zanotti stilettos with golden insets, plus a pair of white-rimmed sunglasses. We didn’t look like a pregnant girl and her broke friend, that’s for sure.
Dr. Ventura was surprised when two women entered his office. I explained quickly that I needed my friend’s support, as my fiancé had left. The gynecologist accepted her presence during the examination, which took place behind a privacy curtain anyway. When we were finished, I put my clothes back on and sat down next to Olga. The doctor scanned through some papers after putting on his glasses.
“You are definitely pregnant. Six weeks, it seems, considering the sonogram and the tests. The fetus is developing correctly, your results are acceptable, but I’m a bit worried about your heart disease. There may be some issues during the birth. We need to consult a cardiologist and change your medication. Also, no stress for you, young lady. No strong emotions and anxiety,” the doctor said sternly, and turned his attention to Olga. “You have to take good care of your friend now. The coming weeks will be the most crucial for the child’s growth. I’ll prescribe some supplements, and if there are no more questions, we’ll see each other in two weeks.”
“I have just one question: Why am I losing weight?”
Dr. Ventura reclined in his seat and took his glasses off. “This happens sometimes. Women may gain or lose weight in the beginning of pregnancy. You need a balanced diet and to refrain from overeating, even if you’re hungry. When you don’t have any appetite throughout the whole day, make yourself eat something anyway. The child needs food to grow.”
“How about sex?” Olga asked.
The doctor cleared his throat, shooting me a puzzled look.
“With my fiancé, of course. Are there any contraindications?”
The man flashed a friendly smile and replied, “None whatsoever. You can have as much sex as you want.”
“Thank you very much,” I said. I shook his hand and we left.
“High five! We’re pregnant,” Olga said with a grin as we drove to Taormina.
“We need to drink to that! I mean, I need to drink. You’ll just watch me.”
“You’re a dumbass.” I trailed off, thinking. “Jesus, it’s good everything’s fine with the baby. I drank so much during those last weeks. And those drugs…”
Olga frowned, turning toward me. “Drugs? You never did any drugs.”
I told her the story of the wedding party, omitting the detail of Piotr’s death.
“What a prick,” she spat. “I’ve always told you he was an asshole. I wish he died, the fuck.”
Well, actually he did, I replied in my mind, shaking my head to get rid of the uncomfortable memory.
On our way shopping, we picked up Domenico from the mansion. Nobody knew the most expensive and best boutiques in town like he did. Taormina was a beautiful, gorgeous place, but there was nowhere to park.