Emma Frost is tired of trying to be good (ice_queen) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-10-18 03:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, emma frost (white queen), ezio auditore da firenze |
I had a very happy Italian childhood - parents, big, loud family
Who: Emma Summers and Ezio Auditore
Where: his office
What: their first session
When: Monday
Warnings/Rating: pg-13 for discussion of NPC suicide
Status complete
Emma sighed as she made her way into another therapist’s office. She knew that Ezio’s style suited her needs better, but he would never be a telepath, and he’d never truly understand all the things she went through on a daily basis.
She looked around after she stepped in, holding her purse over her belly. It was a nervous gesture. When she was anxious she tended to find some way to shield the baby. She didn’t think that was unique to her situation, but she’d been through enough since she started dating Scott to be extra wary.
It didn’t take a fool to tell that his next client was uncomfortable; Ezio could see her hunched shoulders and the line of her face. Then again, he’d read up on the Summers family - perhaps that was just haughtiness. Emma Frost Summers was a lady in the news, and for better or worse, that would shape her personality.
He had finished his paperwork for his previous client, and now stepped out fully into the waiting room to get her. “Signora Summers, I presume?” She was a handsome woman, blonde and fit, obviously pregnant, just barely beginning to show any sign of aging at all. “I am Ezio Auditore. I hope I have not kept you waiting.”
“Not long.” Emma said, squaring her shoulders and striding over to him. She smiled and offered her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Auditore.” Was doctor right? Now she couldn’t remember. Better to assume higher status than lower, and apologize if she was incorrect. “Doctor Grey recommended you quite highly.” Though she didn’t like the threat Jean presented, she seemed to be a very competent psychiatrist, and Emma respected competence.
“How kind of her.” Ezio rested a hand over his heart, inclining his head. ‘You may call me Ezio, if you wish. Please, after you.” He gestured toward his office door.
Emma stepped into his office, looking around with curiosity. Part of her was a little wary, but she tried to ignore it. She couldn’t be suspicious of every person she didn’t know from her dreams. It would be too exhausting. She took a seat and put her purse on the ground. “If I call you Ezio then I’d prefer to be called Emma as well. Mrs. Summers sounds the same in any language, and I get enough of that at work.” She smiled, to show she wasn’t being entirely serious.
“I understand.” He smiled, inclining his head. “May I get you anything? I congratulate you on your little one.” He was curious as to how she might take that - most women liked talking about their children at least briefly, but he didn’t imagine she was most women.
Emma smiled brightly. Oh, he’d get an earful about her children. “Thank you. She’s not even born yet and I already feel like she runs my life.” It was clear from her tone she didn’t mind this at all. “We’re very anxious to get to the end of this pregnancy. It feels like it’s been one thing after another and I don’t think I’ll feel comfortable at all until she’s born.” In more than one way. The baby was big enough to start squishing her organs now, and sometimes she landed a good kick and Emma was certain her sweet little baby was trying to kill her from the inside.
Ezio chuckled. “I wish the very best for the rest of the pregnancy, signora. I am sure your family will be relieved with a safe delivery.” He sat back in his chair, crossing his legs. “You were a teacher before your maternity leave, is that correct?”
“Unfortunately no. I had to resign from teaching at the end of the last school year. I was unable to do my duties sometimes because of events that happened in Orange County. The pregnancy was a valid enough excuse, but I probably would have been fired had I not quit on my own.” It grated on her nerves a little that she’d been forced to give up the thing she wanted to do most because of external forces, but there was no help for it. They effected everyone else the same way.
That was news to him, and he raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry to hear that. Truly. It must have been very ... frustrating.” Not upsetting; this woman had too much steel to get ‘upset’. “I confess that I am unacquainted with the truly mad events of this county, though I have heard much from my patients. I keep waiting to join the club, as it were.” He hoped she didn’t try to give him any grief for a lack of knowledge - he could handle problems resulting from these dreams, even if he hadn’t experienced the dreams himself.
“You’re lucky.” Emma said without hesitation. “I hope you’re always so lucky.” She hated the nonsense that happened all around them. Even mild things like the thought and speech balloons had been difficult for others to deal with. “But I don’t think you’ll have to wait too long to fully grasp what we’re going through. The dreams and events don’t seem to spare anyone on the network.”
“We shall see. I am sure you are right.” Ezio wasn’t just saying that, either; he’d almost resigned himself to the fact. “Signora, let me get right to the point. When you speak of the things that happen here, you appear tired, even resentful.” Her tone hadn’t taken a genius to interpret. “Why do you stay?”
Emma thought how best to put it. “There are certain dreamers that share the same dreams as my husband and I. We understand each other, we know the hardships that we face as a group. We don’t always get along, but we all operate with the certainty that we will have each other’s backs when things get rough. There are no people like that outside of Orange County. When the dreams change you, your chance at a normal life is over, more or less. Even my father feels this way, though he has not changed physically because of the dreams.” Or perhaps he genuinely wanted to stay close to her. She wasn’t entirely sure.
“Ah.” Ezio nodded. “Thank you for enlightening me. That was one major point that was in my way of attempting to assess where I might help you most. If things are intolerable, the first thing to do is obviously to remove oneself from the situation. But now that I grasp why you do not, please advise me as to how I might be of assistance.” His choice of words was formal, almost overly so; between English being a second language and wanting to be polite to her, he thought it best.
“I just want to be able to feel somewhat in control of myself. I know that I can’t control my situation, or the dreams I might have, but I feel like I’m. . . well, I’m no princess under ideal circumstances, but I’m so angry now. I’m suspicious of people who don’t deserve my suspicion,” yet, “and generally making life miserable for myself because I can’t handle one more damn thing going wrong. I also feel like I have to be strong for my family and for my fellow dreamers.”
Ezio nodded. He’d suspected some of it - there were certain things that seemed tailor made for a woman like this - but some of it was new to him. “Your choice of words is very interesting to me, I must admit. You say you are suspicious. Why suspicious? Why not angry or frustrated or resentful?” Suspicious indicated that she had a specific person in mind, and possibly a specific action.
“She has not done anything yet to warrant those other emotions. I only fear what she might do with the knowledge and power she gains from her dreams.” Emma knew better than to complain about her previous therapist to Ezio, even if it was an abstract complaint. “The fact that she’s so likeable and everyone already adores her only makes it more irritating.”
“I understand. So this woman was a threat to you in the dreams, and now she is here and you are wary. I suppose this is understandable.” Who knew what she might have encountered in her dreams. Ezio nodded, though he couldn’t hide the smile at the latter bit. “I cannot unfortunately make anyone be less likeable, but I can do my utmost to help you be prepared, if her likeability turns to danger.”
Emma snorted, her expression lightening momentarily. “I’m just competitive and irritated to be shown up by her general goodness. I feel like I make enemies, or at least annoyances, as easily as she makes friends.” Jean was the good hearted captain of the cheerleading squad and Emma felt like the sad goth girl who sat in the back of the class and bailed on gym class to smoke. To see someone be accepted so easily when she’d had difficulty at first was annoying.
“Do you have any idea as to why that might be?” Ezio rather figured this woman knew how she came across; it was a question of whether she was deep enough in denial to care or not. “And do you believe that this is so, or merely that it feels like this is so?”
“Well, like I said I’m not the most personable person all the time. I also have a bad reputation in the dreams, much worse than I feel I’ve personally earned, but it makes people who’ve dreamed about me before meeting me. . . less than friendly.” Logically she couldn’t blame them, but she clearly remembered how difficult it had been to convince Kitty she wasn’t a raging bitch. “I have rightfully earned some people’s dislike, but I feel that I always start out at a disadvantage, where as Jean starts out with an advantage, because she wasn’t evil in the dreams.” Well, she was, and actually worse than Emma in a lot of ways, but nobody ever called her on that. Which was also annoying. “I’m not sure if these feelings are irrational or not. They’re encouraged by my feelings in the dreams, and if they’re not so I’ve had little proof to convince myself of that.”
“I see. Thank you for your honesty.” Ezio meant it; she could easily have lied to him, and many did, but he didn’t get the feeling she was hiding much, if anything. He thought for a moment. “In the dreams, you say that you had a bad reputation. I fear that this is not something you will ever be able to control.” Surely she knew that, but more often than not, it helped to hear. “However, what you can control is how you react toward people. Your natural reaction will be defensiveness, ecco - it is justified, but it helps you not, if people are convinced of your unpleasantness beforehand. Be pleasant - at least at first - and surprise everyone. I know it is unfair that you must do the work, so to speak,” he added, before she had a chance to get a word in, “but you are the much bigger person for doing it.”
“I suppose so, and the honest truth is that nobody is friends with everybody. Even J-” She stopped, because she’d seen Jean and Ezio interact on the network. It was best to keep names out of this, she didn’t want to get in the way of either of them making friends, or paint herself as a monster for not liking Jean. “Beside, my goal is generally to help people make good decisions rather than acting like their best friend.”
“You have said something interesting there, Signora Emma.” Ezio held up a hand. “You are quite right that no one is friends with everyone, but at the same time, people do have some characteristics they expect in their friends. Are you often in the habit of ‘helping people’ make these ‘good decisions’ only when they ask? Or do you often tell people what the ‘good decision’ is?” Nobody liked a know-it-all.
Emma had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I am sometimes forceful in my opinion of what the right thing is, but I don’t bring up the subject on my own.” Not unless she knew the person well enough, anyway. Kitty was a special case, because they were actually friends.”
“I obviously cannot speak with certainty, as I have not met any of your friends - at least I do not think so - but even if you only reply to what they have brought up, some people may resent this.” Ezio didn’t want to call her a bitch, but he’d seen that behavior in his own life, and well, he knew how he felt. “Sometimes, in my personal life, I have found that I must allow my loved ones to make their own mistakes. It is a thought only, but perhaps something to consider. And I say this not to make you feel bad, but to perhaps get to the bottom of why you feel judged so often.”
“Honestly being judged is not as high on my list of personal problems. It’s there, and it bothers me, but largely my problems are with things I can fix about myself, which may make me a happier and more tolerable person over time.” She shrugged. “It’s part of why I’m jealous of that other woman, but typically I just deal with it and let people think what they want. Those who write me off as a bitch may have good reason to do so, and it’s a waste of both our time to chase after friendships that are never meant to be. I just want to stop feeling uncontrollably angry when I’m upset, and possibly convince myself that I’m worthy of the things I cherish in my life.”
“Perhaps I have misunderstood. You have said that you do not like when people immediately perceive you as unpleasant - is that not judging you, and possibly unfairly at that?” Ezio had thought his English was perfect, but maybe not. “I would be happy to try and talk out the reason you grow so angry when you are upset, but it appears in my view to try and minimize the times you grow upset would be a more far-reaching plan.”
“As you said, I can’t change whether or not people judge me. I’d rather focus my energies elsewhere. I didn’t come here to become someone everyone else can like, I came here to be able to tolerate myself again.”
That wasn’t what he had meant, but there was no point in alienating one’s clients. “Thank you for making it clear. I am happy to try and find the meaning behind your anger. As, of course, there will be one. Or many. Have you found your patience thinning only lately?” It could be related to pregnancy, of course.
She had thought about the pregnancy angle. “Moreso now, and frankly that’s to be expected even if I wasn’t about to give birth.” Two months and counting. It felt like it would be an eternity. “My brother committed suicide nineteen years ago, and I always get more emotional around the anniversary of his death.”
“Ach.” Ezio looked stricken. “I am sorry. Of course, that is a perfectly understandable reason to have a difficult time. And I will not insult you by saying that your brother would not want you to be sad - everyone must grieve in their own way, unless it is overtly harmful.”
“Not anymore. I struggled a great deal with depression when I was a teenager. I felt like he was one of the only allies I had in the world, and to lose him so suddenly, and in such a traumatic manner.” Emma paused to take a deep breath. She knew it was acceptable to cry during this sort of thing, but she didn’t want that to happen during the first session. “I was the one who found him. He’d hung himself in the bathroom. They discovered later that he’d been beaten. . . we assumed it happened at a Halloween party, and then he came home to find the house empty and-” There was no need to finish the thought.
“Dio mio. Of course, what a nightmare.” He wouldn’t wish something of that nature on his worst enemy. “May I ask, Signora Emma, are your close loved ones aware of this tragedy? Are they aware of what might make you more sensitive or less patient?” He would have guessed that her husband probably knew, but no one else. There had to be that kind of trust within a marriage, but not necessarily any other relationship.
“I told Scott, of course. Scott’s my husband.” Of course. She was annoyed at herself for stating the obvious. “I haven’t told my adopted son, but he likely knows anyway. I work with my father and we talked about it, but I’m afraid to bring it up around him because I know it hurts him so much more.” It was amazing to her that she truly cared about upsetting her father.
“But he obviously knows what pain it causes you.” Ezio nodded. “This is good; if they did not know, I would have suggested telling them, but putting yourself through that would of course be difficult in itself. Is there anyone else that might need to know that this is a difficult time, even if you do not wish to go into detail? If they know that, perhaps they will be more likely to consider their words and actions, which would upset you less and anger you less frequently.”
“The only other person who might be worth telling is my friend Kitty. She’s living with us right now, but she’s going through her own hard time so it’s easier to remember to be patient with her. She handles my moods very well, actually, and is a reminder to temper my initial reactions with compassion.” Because Emma would do a lot of things to avoid losing Kitty’s faith in her.
Ezio remembered the girl Kitty who had made an appointment with him, but he didn’t know if it was the same girl. “I can understand how that would be a help to you. Not that I would wish pain upon anyone, but seeing our own difficulties reflected in a mirror can sometimes make us re-evaluate.” Hm. “Tell me. When you say that you get frustrated with people, is it with your loved ones primarily, or with people who do not know what you are going through at this time?”
“Both. But if you knew my son and husband you’d understand why.” Emma laughed a little, to show she was mostly joking. “I get mad at strangers because I’m afraid they’ll hurt others or get hurt themselves. I get mad at my family because I know they’ll do stupid things and get hurt, and I can’t make them stop. In my current condition it wouldn’t even be wise for me to try to help them if there was trouble.”
Ah. Jackpot, as they said in English. “Bella donna. You are intelligent, you are competent and able, and you are beautiful, which is its own kind of power. But you are unfortunately not able to control everyone you meet, though I understand wanting to.” He smiled. “I do not say this to be flippant, mind - I strongly believe that the sooner you accept that some matters are out of your hands, the happier you will be.”
She wouldn’t, of course; she’d tell him it was silly or impossible. She might even walk out. But Emma Frost Summers needed control, and she simply couldn’t have it to the degree that she might need.
“I know, and that’s why I’m here. I can control myself, and I want to be able to do that again, but knowing I can’t control everything else and feeling okay with that are distinctly different things.” And other than her worry that she was completely inadequate as a wife and mother that was her biggest problem.
Ezio inclined his head. “We have gotten to the root of the problem. Va bene! We must find a way to allow you to be more at peace in general. Which is, I must admit, a difficult task for the most easygoing of us.”
“Harder with the general insanity of this place, but I don’t let a challenge intimidate me.” She laughed a little. “So where do we begin?”
He found himself liking her, in spite of her standoffish demeanor. “What I might suggest, Signora Emma, is to first tell me a bit more about the times when you are truly at peace. Could you provide an example of these moments?”
Emma had to think very hard to even begin to answer that. She could easily recall when she was anxious, or in danger. She could even recall being brought back from the dead. “Last Christmas. I forgot about the dreams and the insanity, and I spent the day before with Scott. We were still dating then, and it was so exciting and intimate.” She smiled softly at the memory.
“That sounds rather nice.” Ezio smiled as well. “Was it only the two of you, then? And you had no distractions, no problems?”
“Yes. It was before I knew that he had a son, and he’d temporarily lost his powers, so it was just the two of us, and we didn’t let anything distract us.” Her smile softened and faded, and she looked down at her hands. “Our first real fight was the next day. He said he loved me, and I assumed it was because he’d dreamed of being in love with me. His powers and my memories were back, and they did what they do best.” Sow strife in an otherwise wonderful moment.
Interesting. “Two things are interesting to me in this discussion.” Ezio crossed his legs, looking over at her. “One, that your happiest memory in recent memory is when you had only yourself and your husband, and two, that it was spoiled by assuming.” He had to smile. “Surely I do not have to remind you about the somewhat crass yet true saying of what happens when you assume?” Assuming anything was a way of bending reality to one’s whims. He would bet that she did it often.
Emma huffed a little. “We’d only gone on a few dates prior, it seemed too early to be anything else.” Yes, it was an assumption, but it was a valid assumption, at least in her own mind.
“I agree that your assumption may have had validity. But you cannot know for certain. And if someone tells you that you are wrong, it would perhaps do you well to accept it.” Ezio shook his head. “Especially someone like your husband - at the time, your future husband - who you esteem.”
“It hurt to think he would prefer a different version of me. I was afraid that what we had was an illusion, and that it would evaporate when he realized I would never be the woman of his dreams.” Truthfully she was more worried now that she was too much like her dream self. “I know that he loves me now. I wouldn’t have married him if I still had doubts.”
“I understand. That fear would have been very real. But instead of addressing it, you assumed that he felt this way, and likely offended him.” Ezio tried to be gentle in tone. “I am glad you know that he loves you now, and I assume - please correct me if I am wrong! - that you allow yourself to feel more vulnerable around him now.”
“That’s fair to say.” It had hurt him, just like every fight hurt them both. “I feel like there are times when I have to be strong for him, and for Nate, but I’m as honest with them as I can be about my feelings.” Which was what she thought he meant.
“It is good, obviously. When you are honest with them, though, is it in response to their wish, or do you tell them exactly what you think whether they wish it or not?”
Emma didn’t bother to suppress her wry laugh. “Do I strike you as the kind of person who lies to preserve other’s feelings?” But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? “The only thing I’m less than honest about is my opinion of how Scott sees and treats his son. I’m not sure it’s my place to say what I think in that circumstance.”
“No, you do not. But let me ask you this. When you speak your mind about how someone else is handling something in their life, does it actually give you satisfaction? Or is it merely an impulse at this point?” Ezio leaned forward.
“I don’t get satisfaction out of it. In the dreams I’m cruel, I say terrible things and push people away. I don’t like doing that here, and I try not to. I just feel that sugar coating isn’t always helpful. that serious matters need to be dealt with head on. That’s why I don’t say anything about Nate, because being a father means everything to Scott, and criticizing how he does it would be cruel, even if I know it hurts Nate’s feelings a lot that his father doesn’t accept him as he is.”
“I see.” Ezio nodded. “I obviously do not know how your dreams are, but it does seem - for better or worse - that you do share that part of yourself with Dream Emma, so to speak. I propose, Signora Emma, that we attempt to teach you some tact.” He couldn’t help but smile faintly. “I for one respect a woman who speaks her mind, and I know many do. But there is a way to speak it while still being cognizant of one’s feelings.” He looked down at his dark purple sweater, worn over his shirt and tie. “If you hated my sweater, you might now say ‘Ezio, you look like a grape.’ Whereas, it might be better to say ‘Ezio, perhaps in future you might reconsider that colour’. Both convey your dislike, while the second somewhat spares my delicate feelings.” He hoped she’d laugh.
He looked back up at her. “I know, Signora, that you might turn up your nose, and say, uffa! This is sugarcoating! But I promise you, it is not. You are still being truthful, after all. Just not so pointed.”
Emma snorted at his comment about his sweater. “You do not look like a grape, but I understand what you’re trying to say. Alright then, how can I tactfully tell my beloved that he needs to accept the fact that his son has aged up considerably, and that wishing for what he can’t have is making him lose his son in the only way that could ever truly be permanent?”
“Aged up, truly? As in, has awoken one day older than he was before?” Ezio had to marvel. “Fascinating. But let us break down this example.” He ticked off the points on his fingers. “You wish to tell your husband what he knows: that his boy is older than before. Then what he may not know: that the boy, I assume, is hurt by his father’s obvious wishing for him to be younger again. And what he definitely does not know: that this treatment may cause an irreparable rift.” He faced Emma, temporarily role-playing. “Il mio amore, I know that you regret that our son is now older. You have missed things in his childhood. But right now, it appears to me that our son is aware that you are not happy with his age. You are entitled to your opinions, but I fear that if you continue to show them to him so obviously, he will become alienated from you, which would be worse than any growth spurt.”
He smiled, ceasing the roleplay. “Perhaps not quite so wordy in a lady whose first language is English! But notice my words, if you please - I fear. It appears to me. I have found both personally and professionally that if one grounds their opinion as being theirs, and not presenting it as universal, it is often received better.”
Emma nodded. What he said made sense, and it would be a good place to start the conversation. “Nate’s an incredible mind reader. Scott can’t just fake it until he makes it. If someone thinks strongly about a telepath, especially while talking face to face with them, it’s almost impossible not to hear. I’ll try to bring it up that way, but not now while our recent argument is fresh in his mind.”
Ezio nodded. “I hesitate to ask this, but is your entire family telepaths? I cannot imagine that makes interpersonal interaction any easier if so.” The idea was still faintly ridiculous, but he had to begin to accept it.
“Scott’s the only one who isn’t. It’s likely our daughter will share that gift as well. It’s very common in our world. I mean the dream world.” She pursed her lips, annoyed at the slip. She knew better. “Nate is a special case. He’s a genius, he could pull the Earth out of orbit with his telekinesis, which is moving objects with one’s mind.” She didn’t know what the word was in Italian. “He could hear the subconscious thoughts of a person on the other side of the world. You’d think he’d be a terror, but. . . I’m so proud of him. He’s taken it so well, and he’s been through so much. He’s so strong, and I see so much of Scott’s best qualities in him.”
“He sounds a remarkable young man.” Ezio meant it. “It is indeed remarkable as well that he is so even, if what you say is true - that much power goes to anyone’s head.” He shrugged. “I can, however, also understand your husband’s confusion - going from what I imagine was a small child to a brilliant and terrible young man would throw the strongest man for the proverbial loop. And I say terrible in the sense which conveys awe.”
He sighed. “You do indeed have interesting family dynamics. And for the immediate future, I might suggest trying to incorporate different choices of words into how you figure into those dynamics. As I said. If you ground your opinions as being yours - using “I” language instead of a general “this is how things are done” - your loved ones may disagree still, but they will disagree much more respectfully. Much less rudely. Which, I must imagine, will upset you less.”
Emma nodded. “I hope that they can fix their relationship. They’ve had such a turbulent history together. Scott’s only been his legal parent for a few months. I can understand why Scott is having such a hard time with cognitive dissonance, but it will break his heart to lose his son, and I don’t want my new family to be like my old one, with a father full of regrets and nothing but disenfranchised children who barely manage to sulk home for holidays.”
Ezio nodded, eyes full of sympathy. “And of course, it is very hard on you. On top of the things you deal with currently. All you can do is speak your mind, Signora Emma, but in a way which will be productive, and not destructive. Another effect of saying “I” instead of using a general phrasing, is that your words will be seen to come from your son’s mother. Your husband’s wife. Instead of a bystander. Davvero. You have a stake in these disputes - this way you remind them.”
She nodded, taking a deep breath. She hadn’t expected all that to come out, but it was necessary, so she tried to make herself comfortable with it. “Thank you. I hope I’ll get through to him, and hopefully I can help Nate have the patience to wait until Scott can handle what happened.”
“I believe that you are quite a loving and warm person, to those who see your true colors, signora.” Ezio smiled. “But to be warm, one must be vulnerable, and it seems difficult for you, as it is for many. I would be happy to explore this further with you if you wish, or if not, I will simply wish the best for your family. I had a very happy Italian childhood - parents, big, loud family - and I keep it in mind, so I can help other families to achieve this, if they wish it.” Their time was almost up, and he could honestly say he regretted it.
Emma took a deep breath and pulled out a tissue to wipe her eyes. “I’m willing, I’d really like to have a big, happy family.” She smiled at the mental image. Scott and her raising a house full of children sounded like the best thing in the world right then.
“I would be happy to see you again, at your convenience within my schedule. I see patients three days a week, and the other two are spent at UCLA working in clinical psychology. This year it is a criminological study.” Which was fascinating, to say the least. “One thing I would ask you to consider, as well, before we conclude?”
Emma nodded. “I’ll make my next appointment before I go.” She waited politely for him to make his last point, motioning for him to continue.
“Consider, Signora Emma, that this whole appointment, I have been speaking to you of difficult truths. Things which would be impolite and even cruel to bring up, were it in a context other than a therapist’s office.” Ezio rose, smiling at her. “Yet, from what I have observed, my application of tact at judicious moments has prevented you from feeling overtly abused or harassed. And I got results.”
“I suppose so.” She said, bowing her head to acknowledge the point he’d made. “I’ll consider that.”
“Only consider.” He tried to never actively order people in one direction. He preferred to suggest, to get their minds going. Epiphanies always lasted longer when one arrived on their own. “I can say it has been a genuine pleasure, Signora Emma.”
“For me as well.” She sighed and hoisted herself up, groaning softly. She was a bit intimidated by the fact that she was still going to get bigger before the baby was born. “I’ll need to use your restroom before I go.”
“Of course. I can only imagine what ladies go through in having children.” Ezio gestured to a discreet door tucked behind a plant. “Through there.” He smiled, getting out his appointment book. This was the kind of client he enjoyed - he could help this lady. If she would allow it.