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Riverboatlover1: He took her to Rome!
Holly323: She’ll be a national embarrassment.
My hands jittered as I stared at the photo of Paul at our table posted below. He wasn’t smiling.Why don’t I remember that? Am I missing his social cues?
CraneStan22: Y’all are desperate. Paul lost his wife. He deserves some happiness.
I smiled at the post. I believe that too. But then I saw a post further down the page.
The Fashion Passionist: Check my threat out. Copper Catastrophe. The many wrongs of the couture disaster by Paul’s gold digger at the New York School of Design end of year show.
My eyes stung and my stomach twisted in knots. I’d followed The Fashion Passionist since high school. I couldn’t believe a person I looked up to called me a gold digger and ripped apart my dress.
“I’m back.” Paul came back and sat down. “We’ve been invited to their winery in Napa Valley.” He mused and glanced down at my plate. “You’re not hungry?”
I lifted my shoulders. “No.”
His brows lowered. “Did something happen?”
I lowered my head to hide my face. “Do…do you feel at a loss with me? I mean is it hard to spend time with me when I’m of a different class than you?”
Paul frowned and moved his seat closer, placing his arm around my back. “What are you talking about Nadia?”
I hunched my shoulders. “We’re not alike. You told me you didn’t like sharing music, but I don’t know a thing about classical music or operas. I…I don’t even know which fork to use or what wine is supposed to taste like—”
“So what? I don’t care if you eat with your hands. You’re with me because I want you, and that’s all that matters. Where is this coming from?” he asked in a sharp tone.
I shook my head.
“Nadia, show me,” he demanded in his authoritative tone.
I opened up my phone and showed him the posts.
Paul snorted. “Fuck them. She’s just showing off that she was at Chef Renault’s private party. A photo was taken at a moment when I wasn’t smiling? Come on, Nadia. That’s nothing.”
“What about this one?” I showed him the article “Ten Women Better Suited for Paul Crane: A thread” which now had over four thousand likes.
Paul glared at the screen. “The audacity of this person. Please understand that trolls who make these lists have never met me or know me at all. This is the kind of garbage I warned you about, stop wasting your time on it.”
Easier said than done. Some were comments from magazines and celebrities who were against me, all of which I had admired in the past. They all ripped me to shreds—my clothes, the way I talk, walk, and dance. Nothing about me seemed good enough for Paul in the eyes of the media.
Paul couldn’t always come to my defenses, and mom reminded me that I had to be kind for my career. How was I ever going to find a balance?
Paul glanced at his watch. “We have an appointment. Let’s go.”
We stood to leave. Though, out of the corner of my eye, I witnessed a person recording us. Probably posting with some commentary. I sighed and put on my sunglasses. Then I took Paul’s waiting hand, and we headed for the car and once again I was in awe of Rome. It was like living in a museum, with marble sculptures and ancient temples intermixing with the modern shops. There were people dressed to the nines walking to cafes and shops. And cars rushing so fast around the roundabouts to dark streets that lead to the unknown. Laurence drove us to Tiffany & Co. at Via Condotti, which was one of the most famous designer streets in the world.
“Buongiorno,” Paul greeted the jeweler warmly in Italian as he locked the door behind us. “We’re here to see what you’ve created for my Nadia.” I glanced around at cabinets of jewels in the display cases. There were no prices visible, but I knew the brand was luxury.
There were necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. Paul picked up a marquise diamond necklace with a platinum pendant.Oh my God. Is that a violet diamond at the center?I had always been fascinated by the different colors of diamonds, so I had a rough idea of this gorgeousand rarediamond’s worth. The last one I’d studied, a .13ct violet diamond, was valued at over thirty thousand dollars. I had no words. But then Paul picked up the graduated diamond, and I lost my breath. How could he possibly think I’d feel…like mewearing close to ninety thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds on my body?
I shook my head at him and pressed my lips together, wishing we were alone to have a conversation about it instead of being put on the spot in front of the jeweler.
Paul met my annoyance with his own determination and will. He was going to buy the jewelry for me.
I lowered my eyelids, and my body trembled all over. Paul placed his hands on my shoulders. “Nadia. It’s a gift from me.”
I wiped the corner of my eye but didn’t trust myself to speak.
