Read The Affair: Week 5 for Free Online

relax.”
    The young blond salesgirl returned first, carrying not a cup of tea, but an entire service including a pot of tea, a tiered tray of small sandwiches, fruit, scones, jam and cream, and a glass of champagne. Despite Emma’s awkwardness in the surroundings, she realized she was hungry and sampled one of the sandwiches and then a strawberry. A few minutes later, she sat on the couch with the teacup in her hand and a scone melting on her tongue, watching wide-eyed as Sophia breezed in with an armful of dresses.
    “What about this one first?” she asked Emma, holding up a stunning mauve strapless gown. Sophia waved the dress over a sort of pedestal. Much to Emma’s amazement, a video popped up on the mirror of a gorgeous, slinky model strutting down the runway wearing the precise dress Emma was about to try on. She gasped.
    “Is there a chip in the dress?” she asked Sophia, standing.
    Sophia grinned. “Yes, a tiny one on a tag. Our customers like to see the outfits we sell professionally modeled.”
    And the store likes to see their merchandise purchased, Emma thought amusedly as she began to shuck off her clothes. It was a brilliant sales maneuver. How many customers actually pictured themselves in the gorgeous model’s shoes when they donned the dress?
    She suddenly wished she’d put on a fancier bra and underwear set when she’d set out on what she thought would be a solitary, run-of-the-mill trip downtown this morning. Little had she guessed her solo trip to Macy’s would end up like
this.
    “Oh my
goodness
,” Sophia said, eyes going wide as she turned from hanging some dresses on a rack. At the woman’s exclamation, Emma cringed where she stood in her bra and underwear. Were her undergarments
that
bad? Then she realized where the woman stared and her hand flew to her throat. “Is that a Prisatti angel?” Sophia asked, her tone hushed and thick with awe.
    “I . . . I don’t know. It’s a
petit ange
. It was a gift,” Emma said, letting her hand fall.
    Sophia met her stare, a smile starting on her mouth. “From
him
?” she asked, glancing sideways in the direction of the sitting room where Vanni waited.
    “Yes.”
    Sophia gave her a
lucky you
smile. “It’s a Prisatti angel. They’re extremely rare, handmade by a man named Angelo Prisatti, an Italian jeweler who lives in France. He only makes a few a year, the metalwork and etching is exquisitely detailed, even under a microscope. Prisatti insists on approving of the wearer himself. Their spirit has to match the essence of the piece he makes . . . match up to his standards, in other words. Otherwise, you’d see every spoiled rich girl in the world wearing one.”
    “
I’ve
never met him,” Emma said. “Maybe it’s not a Prisatti angel, after all.”
    “He must have altered his expectations for Montand,” Sophia said with a knowing smile. “Because that’s
definitely
a Prisatti angel.”
    Emma absorbed this amazing bit of news. It didn’t surprise her that it was an extremely valuable necklace—she could have guessed that just by its unique, delicate beauty. What bewildered her was why Vanni would have taken pains to acquire such a rare piece for her.
    As the rack in the huge, ornate dressing room began to fill with not just dozens of dresses, but resort wear, hats, shoes, belts, and accessories, Emma’s confusion about Vanni’s gift had to be moved to the back burner.
    “I really just need a dress and maybe a swimsuit,” Emma told Sophia uncomfortably.
    “These are the items Mr. Montand indicated,” the woman overrode her with pleasant politeness. “Here, let me help you with that,” she said, moving behind Emma to zip up the gorgeous creation she’d just put on—a stunning green halter dress that came with a short jacket. When Sophia had zipped her in, she stared at her reflection in awe. The dress did amazing things for her figure. It made the gold of her hair look especially rich and vibrant and her skin gleam.