Page 129 of Mafia and Gold Digger

“Ma, for goodness sake, keep your voice down!” Fidella says in a loud whisper. Because people aren’t even pretending not to eavesdrop—they’re outright gawking with their mouths wide open.

She looks through the new selection of dresses, picks one, and dashes off to get changed into it.

Before long, there’s a rustle of fabric behind me, followed by gasps.

I turn.

And I blink several times.

Because Ma Veneti emerges from a fitting room wearing a barely-there, sequin-covered mini dress with a plunging neckline and cutouts at the waist. It’s tight.Like,vacuum-sealed tight. “What do you think?” she says, striking a pose.

Anni coughs to cover a giggle. Fidella looks horrified. And Jacquetta is turning red in the face as she tries to hold in her laughter. The consultant freezes mid-step, trying to smile but failing miserably. Fidella tries to keep her voice calm. “Ma, don’t you think that’s…a bit bold?”

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Oh please, I’ve still got it. Why should the bride get all the attention?” She twirls around again and again, the hem of the dress riding dangerously high. “This screams confidence, don’t you think?”

It screams something, but I don’t say it, and Jacquetta and I collapse into a fit of giggles, no longer able to hold it back.

The consultant attempts diplomacy. “That style is from ourbachelorettecollection, actually…”

But Ma Veneti doesn’t care. She disappears back into the fitting room, only to emerge a minute later in another dress. I look on as she struts across the floor to us. This dress is sheer, with strategically placed feathers that leave little to the imagination.

Jacquetta drops her phone. Anni chokes on her champagne. And Fidella goes wide-eyed like she’s just seen a ghost—or witnessed a crime. “No, Ma, you’re not buying that,” Fidella croaks.

She sighs dramatically. “You young people are so uptight. When I got married, we didn’t wear those meringue-shaped things. We showed off!”

“You were nineteen then,” Anni reminds her mother with a grin.

She shrugs. “Age is just a number. Besides, who says older women can’t be sexy?”

Then I realize that the boutique has gone completely silent. A well-dressed family in the corner exchange awkward glances. The consultant offers her most professional smile and holds out a full-length taffeta gown which she suggests would suit perfectly.

But Ma Veneti snorts and tosses it aside. She stands in front of the mirror and fluffs her hair. “Oh please, if you’ve got it, flaunt it. I’m just trying to find something fun to wear. I want to stand out!”

“Oh, you’ll definitely stand out, Ma,” Anni chuckles.

Undeterred, Ma Veneti disappears and reemerges in a white latex number that squeaks when she walks and pushes her boobs up and out.

Fidella looks like she might faint. And a little girl across the boutique asks her mom, “Is that lady in the circus?”

Saint arrives to collect me just as Ma Veneti emerges in the latest dress, singing Madonna’s ‘Like A Virgin’ at the top of her voice. “Like a virgin, touched for the very first time,” she sings out-of-tune as she skips along. “How I wish I could have my cherry popped all over again!”

Saint’s eyes are as wide as saucers, but she carries on singing and prancing around the room before flinging herself onto a couch and draping herself over it in what she hopes is a sultry pose.

I say goodbye to everyone and give them all a hug. “Thanks so much for coming today and helping me choose,” I say to Anni. “Sorry I have to dash off.”

“Wish I could escape this as well,” Anni murmurs with an exasperated grin as she hugs me back. “I can’t wait for your wedding, Emerald. You’re going to look absolutely stunning in that dress.”

And with a final wave at everyone, I head for the exit with Saint and the kids at my side.

“What was that all about?” Saint asks as I quickly lead him away. “And I wonder if Christian knows that his ma is completely out of control.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Do you really want me to explain?”

“Probably not,” he mutters as he holds open the car door for me.

And as I slide into the car, my mind wanders again to the baby inside of me. And I know I have to tell Saint very soon...

* * *