His: Tony: The Sabatini Family by Fiona Murphy (sneezy the snowman read aloud TXT) 📕

pretty much. But I do love art, I’ve spent more hours than I can count at the Art Institute too.”

Unease fills me at the idea on some afternoon, I might have been in the Art Institute at the same time as Tony Sabatini. When things got stressful for me, I made my way to the Art Institute to be soothed by the beauty of the art—escaping into the vivid colors and brush strokes in front of me.

I had stopped reading as a means of escape because it annoyed Eddie to find me lost in a book. While there were times I missed it, having the ability to wander the creaking wooden boards in the large echoing rooms of the Art Institute was enough of a replacement for me.

“That’s good. Tony can’t meet with you until tomorrow. It gives you some time to spend catching up on the latest books. For now, let’s get you at least one bra and panties set. I’m also thinking either a baby doll or camisole set. What do you think Gertrude?”

“Hmm...I know just the thing. Let’s get you measured my dear.”

I’m led into a large changing room. It isn’t easy to undress in front of both Lisa and Gertrude. Only Gertrude’s casual attitude helps ease my discomfort. I give into the question I’ve been wondering. “So how do you know Tony Sabatini? Is it him coming in to buy for his women?”

“Tony has been in a few times, yes. However, I knew him first from his mother, Sophia. She was the sweetest woman with a spine of iron. Back in the day, I started at Marshall Fields. Sophia came in every few weeks and preferred honesty over people kissing her ass. Before long, I became her go-to shopper. Several times she brought her boys in with her to shop. Tony also came in and asked me to shop for her birthday and later his wife. It was Tony’s mother who urged me to open my own shop.”

A soft sigh, “And as I thought, you’re wearing the wrong size bra. You are a 42 double D, not a 40C. I’m surprised you can stand to wear this all day.”

Blushing, I admit. “I’m only wearing this because I knew I would be changing and wearing more form-fitting clothes. Usually, I’m in a sports bra. I own all of five real bras.”

“Ah, I understand. Let’s get you in your correct size. It will make a world of difference.”

Walking away from the tiny store, I hate how completely right both Gertrude and Lisa are. I’m already walking taller with my shoulders back as I wear out one of the two sets of bra and panties I could only afford because I’m sure Gertrude changed the price for me. The set I’m wearing is sheer black with lace edging, and the other set is red satin and lace. In the end, I have both a black lace baby doll and a silk camisole set in pink.

The afternoon is spent in a salon where I lose almost six inches of hair. Despite my fear over it, my hair is still long. However, it’s lighter and with the layers Lisa was insistent on, I’m finally able to see under all the hair I was hiding a pretty face. While I’m not sure I’m beautiful enough to catch and hold Tony’s interest, the plan doesn’t seem as crazy as it did last night.

It’s hard to hand over my credit card. What makes it even more painful is how few clothes we leave with: five dresses, six tops, four skirts, two cardigans, and two pairs of pants. Lisa was insistent Tony preferred dresses and skirts over jeans and pants.

At home, Lisa helps me unpack everything.

“Okay, give me your phone.” Lisa holds out her hand.

Warily, I unlock it and give it to her. She’s tapping away on it. “What are you doing?”

“Since you admitted you haven’t been reading, I’m downloading a reading app and giving you access to my account. I have almost five hundred books, most of them I’ve actually read. I’m going through and opening all the ones I want you to read immediately—like as soon as I leave. Until you see Tony, I need you to get into the mood and tune into your body. You mentioned a vibrator or two. You need to use them, repeatedly.”

My eyes go wide at her order. I haven’t used them in almost two years. I’m not even sure they will work.

“Don’t give me that look, Christy. These stories will have you reaching for your vibrator anyway. You need to connect with the Christy you were before Eddie turned you into...the you of now.”

She sighs. “Come on, this is not you. When we were growing up, you were braver and stronger than anyone I had ever met. Okay, I get you were that way because of what your mom was doing, which is even more badass. You didn’t become this shell and sink into yourself the way you have now. Fuck that, no. It’s bullshit. You are a beautiful woman. You are strong. Believe it, own it.”

“I wasn’t strong.” I argue. “I became what I needed to be to get through the day. Eddie said the same things my mom said. If you hear it long enough from more than one person—how you’re worthless, useless, and ugly... you begin to believe it.”

Lisa hugs me tight. “Hey, you aren’t, though. They were. That’s how they felt about themselves. It’s called projecting, and I’m adding another book you need to read if you believe any of that.”

Shaking my head, “It’s one thing to know it, but another to believe and let go of it.”

Nodding, Lisa sighs. “True, very true.” Her phone goes off with a text, and she swears.

“What?”

“It’s one of my clients. He wants to take me with him on a business trip to London.” She groans. “Tonight. His wife is busy with their kid. It isn’t often he can go alone. I’m pretty sure she knows