Andrea’s cheeks reddened. “Please. Don’t. We’re being spoilt rotten as it is.”
“No, I insist. Looking good, feeling good. That’s my motto,” said Gemma, drumming her hands on her lap with excitement.
“An expensive motto, John,” commented Jason.
By late afternoon, they arrived in Genoa. The routine of docking the yacht was familiar to Gemma, but not her brother and girlfriend. The visitors watched Sublime drift into its berth at a sedate pace, while Gemma took her husband to one side to discuss the evening’s plans.
“We’re dining on shore tonight. Italian cuisine.”
“Pizza?” She smacked her lips together, pretending to scoff a mouthful.
“No.” Jason gave a despairing shake of his head. “Top-notch fish restaurant. Not very grateful for my culinary extravagances, are you?”
“The shopping trip?” she asked, deflecting the conversation.
“Lubinsky will go with you. You’ll have to be quick. They will be closing for the evening soon.” Jason checked his watch. “You can meet us at the restaurant.”
Andrea halted in her tracks when she saw Lubinsky alongside Gemma on the quayside. “Is he necessary, Gemma?” she asked quietly.
“Yes. I don’t have a say, either, so best accept the situation. Jason would point out Italian gangs that like to kidnap the wealthy, so best not wander off.”
A short taxi ride took them to the boutiques Esteban, in his wisdom, had recommended—high-priced, fashionable, and filled with designer clothing.
Gemma bounced in and out of the shops. At home, she employed a couple of dress designers who catered to her personal tastes. Well-versed in the latest trends, she walked down the aisles, checking the stock. “Nope. Wrong colour. Not the right cut for you. Try this and this.”
She pulled clothes off the rails and handed them to the stunned Andrea, who gawped at the price tags and the materials. Buried under a pile of dresses, skirts, and tops, her future sister-in-law headed towards the fitting room.
Gemma waited outside as Andrea paraded in and out, twirling.
“Oh, yes. I think that works. Don’t you?”
Gemma gave a firm nod.
Andrea ducked back into the closet.
“No. Not you, Andrea.” Gemma shook her head at the latest outfit.
The brisk pace continued while Lubinsky hovered outside in the dying heat of the day.
“This is plenty, Gemma. Truly. Please don’t spend any more on me,” pleaded Andrea.
“Shoes?” remarked Gemma. “I think we’ve got enough time.”
Andrea gaped, and Gemma burst into laughter. “My darling soon-to-be-sister-in-law, I know you find it hard comprehend, but all this barely touches my purse strings.”
Calling over a shop assistant, she rattled off a string of instructions regarding delivery of their purchases to Sublime. Gemma didn’t want to be late to the restaurant.
***
“This is delicious.” John smacked his lips. “Not quite our usual night-out meal, is it, Andi?”
“Pizza Hut or something similar,” muttered Andrea.
Gemma couldn’t resist the small utterance of “pizza!” with relish. Jason rewarded her with one of his discreet thigh pinches under the table. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, suppressing a pained expression.
“Are you all right, Gemma?” asked John.
“Sure. Bit my tongue.” She exhaled as Jason let go.