29

Chapter 29
Arin
I’m confused when he has Johnny drive us to SoHo. “I thought you said this place was off limits.”
Dominic is on his phone, texting someone. He hasn’t put that damn thing
down since this morning. I wonder if it has to do with his sudden promotion. Felicia sits between us in her car seat, distractedly flipping through an illustrated children’s book about a cow and its barnyard friends.
“Have a little patience,” he says, not looking up from his screen. “It’ll be worth the wait.”
When I feel the car roll to a stop, I glance out the window to a big shop front. We’re in a particularly nice part of the neighborhood, full of all sorts of upscale shops. Johnny is the first to get out, dressed in one of the special Kevlar-lined suits that I designed, and circles the front of the car to open the door for me. Behind us, I notice a black SUV. Several well-dressed men get out of their vehicle as well, also wearing the suits I painstakingly stitched together by hand.
“They’re with us,” Johnny says with an understanding smile. “Your own personal protection detail.”
I lift Felicia out of the car, holding her close to me. She’s totally unfazed by their presence. I, on the other hand, can’t ignore the weird sinking feeling stewing in my gut. Something in the air has shifted, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.
“This is it,” Dominic says, gesturing to the shop front.
The big windows are covered on the inside with opaque brown paper, but even without peeking inside, I know this place must cost a fortune to rent commercially. The exterior is painted a lovely deep evergreen, and there’s plenty of space above the French double doors to install a big, beautiful sign.
My mouth drops open when Dominic reaches into his pocket, steps up to the doors, and unlocks them. We step inside together. A few of Dominic’s
colleagues come in with us, but a few stay outside to keep guard.
The place smells of fresh paint and sawdust. It’s well-lit and will probably be even more so once the windows are cleared of paper. The floors are a polished white tile and the walls an elegant cream.
“It’s yours,” Dominic tells me with a grin.
It takes a second for my brain to compute what he’s saying. “Excuse me?”
“I know it’s not quite Fifth Avenue, but I think it’s a significant improvement over your previous location.”
All I can do is marvel. “This is… for me? But how?”
“Let’s just say the building’s come under new management.” He sounds wholly smug, and I’m not a fan.
“So you’re bribing me?” I ask him tersely.
He looks shocked for a moment before responding. “No, Arin. I think you are immensely talented and I want to help you realize your dream. Will you let me do that?”
My initial unease quickly melts and gives way to my uncontainable excitement. I can hardly believe it. This place is Chanel, Gucci, and Dior levels of chic. I can already imagine where I’m going to install shelves to display select dresses—at full retail price—as well as where I want to arrange a seating area for shoppers to relax as I pamper them with a bespoke fitting.
The dressing rooms will be somewhere in the back, and they won’t be made out of those ugly metal stalls like the contractors got confused about where to put the bathroom, either. Everything is going to be well-lit and beautifully displayed, and maybe I’ll be able to hire a couple of employees to help me ring customers up and—
“I love it,” I breathe, my heart promising to skip right out of my chest. “I love it. Thank you so much.”
The smile he gives me sends a delightful shiver down my spine.
“So, tell me,” he says warmly. “What name do I give them for the sign?”
I’ve thought about this moment for years, spending endless nights trying to come up with the perfect name for my fashion label. All the greats resorted simply to using their last names, synonymous with their style, their success, their brand. But Wilson doesn’t have as much kick as I’d like. It doesn’t feel as glamorous or as sophisticated as Versace, Balenciaga, or Prada.
An idea pops into my head. If my last name won’t do, perhaps my first will.
“Marina,” I tell him with a smile. “Just Marina.” Dominic nods in approval. “Perfect.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely less clunky than Marina’s Lil’ Dress Shoppe. I’ll have the boys put in the order.”
Felicia looks around, moderately fascinated with our new location, though I have a feeling I won’t be able to keep her attention for much longer. I’m sure there are a million other things an energetic four-year-old would rather be doing. She plays with a lock of my hair, squirming a bit in my hold. I set her down on her feet but hold on to her hand.
“Mommy, where are we?”
“This is my new store, sweetie.” I smile wide when I glance at Dominic. “Your Daddy gave it to me. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Daddy,” my daughter echoes, looking at him.
I’ll never forget the look on Dominic’s face. It’s a combination of pride, pure joy, and so much love that I’m genuinely afraid he might pass out.
“Are you really my daddy?” Felicia asks.
Dominic gets down on his knee to meet her at eye level. “I am, principessa.”
We both stare at our daughter to see her reaction, and I nearly laugh out loud when she shrugs her little shoulders and says a nonchalant, “Okay.”
“I’m going to call Miriam the second we get home,” I say. “Hopefully she’ll still take me on as a client.”
“She will,” he says firmly.
“Thank you, Dom. For all of this. It’s really amaz—”
His phone rings loudly, cutting me off. “Sorry,” he grumbles. “I have to take this. Feel free to check out the rest of the store.” Dominic leaves promptly, a few suited men following him.
I give Johnny a quick glance. “Any idea who he’s talking to?” “I’m not at liberty to say,” he replies with a sympathetic shrug.
A flicker of annoyance licks at the back of my neck. Right. Of course. It’s Mob business or whatever. I’m a part of Dominic’s life, but at the same time, not a part of it. Not entirely. I might never be.
I tell myself I’m being silly, that this strange knot twisting in the pit of my stomach will pass. It’s just a phone call. Dominic has always been a busy man. I shouldn’t allow myself to get this upset, especially not when he’s done something so amazing for me. Besides, I’m about to be very busy myself now
that my path forward seems free and clear of any obstacles.
As I look around, an electric excitement fills me from head to toe. This is it. My dreams are finally going to become a reality.