Page 86 of Filthy Dirty Dom
"Maria, these are wonderful!" Leslie praised, picking up a doll adorned in a purple dress and golden hair. The child looked up, her young face lighting up with pride.
"You think so?" Maria asked, her eyes wide with hope and expectation.
"Absolutely," Leslie affirmed. "I love how you've used such bright, happy colors. And this one," she gestured towards a particularly detailed doll with dark hair and blue eyes, "she's really beautiful. Who is she?"
Maria blinked up at her before offering a shy smile. "That's my Aunt Mia," she said softly, her small fingers tracing over the drawn figure. "I've never met her, but Bella showed me pictures. She's really pretty."
Leslie's heart ached at the innocent remark, remembering when Alex told her that Mia had been murdered. Now that she knew Luca was the head of the Italian mob, her head was filled with gruesome images and potential reasons why Mia had been killed. Hiding her dark thoughts, Leslie offered Maria a soft, reassuring smile. "Yes, she was, Maria. And I bet she would have loved your drawings. They're beautiful, just like her."
The compliment seemed to please Maria, the child's face blooming into a grin before she went back to her creative process, content in the world she had created amongst her paper dolls.
Across the room, Alex was observing their interactions quietly, his features relaxed yet distant. He seemed slightly uncomfortable, perhaps out of his depth in this domestic setting. He glanced at Maria every now and then, a soft smile making its way onto his face, but he did not move closer. He maintained his distance, his walls up. It was strange to see him like this. He was usually so at ease with children, especially with his niece Natalie.
"Can you teach me how to draw like this?" Bella asked from Leslie’s other side, her fingers delicately tracing the flowing lines of a sketch of a dress that Leslie had designed. The delicate tendrils of lacework were rendered with such intricacy that the gown almost seemed alive on paper.
Leslie's gaze softened at the request. "Of course," she said, her voice infused with a quiet warmth. The smile that graced Bella's face was small, almost imperceptible, but it reached her eyes, and for a moment, the teenager's usual guard seemed to drop.
Leslie moved her chair closer to Bella, positioning her sketch pad between them. She then began to walk Bella through the steps, starting with simple shapes. "The key is to start with the basic structure of the dress," she said, her pencil gliding over the paper to form a rudimentary outline. "Think of it as the skeleton on which everything else will be built."
Bella's gaze was intently focused on the paper as Leslie continued, explaining each aspect of the design process in detail. The girl mimicked her, her own pencil scratching against the paper as she slowly but surely began to form a similar shape. It was crude and unpolished, but the beginnings of potential were there.
"That's great," Leslie encouraged, a genuine smile on her face as she saw Bella's progress. "Now, let's add some details. Maybe some lacework on the bodice?" She demonstrated, the pencil effortlessly dancing across the paper to give the illusion of lace.
Bella followed suit, adding her own twist to the design. Her rendition of the lace was heavier, bolder than Leslie's delicate version, but it had its own charm. As the teenager's creation came to life on paper, Leslie saw a spark ignite in her eyes, a spark of passion and intrigue that mirrored her own love for fashion.
As Bella continued trying to replicate one of Leslie's sketches, Leslie's attention wandered back to Alex. The sight of him amidst the domestic chaos, his rugged features softening as he watched the children, brought an unexpected thought to her mind.
Did Alex ever think about having children of his own?
She'd always assumed that he would be an amazing father, given his protective nature and his love for his family. But held himself back from any potential romantic relationship. It seemed likely he’d also reject the idea of fatherhood.
She shook her head, dismissing the thought. It was not her place to wonder about such things. Their time together was limited, and she had to remember that.
But even as she tried to push the thoughts away, she couldn't ignore the ache in her heart at the thought of Alex missing out on something that could bring him so much joy and fulfillment. She couldn't help but wish that one day he would let down his walls and allow himself to experience all that life had to offer. Because if anyone deserved that kind of happiness, it was Alex.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Renee entered the room. "Time for cooking!" she announced in her thick Italian accent, clapping her hands together. "Anyone who wants to learn to make chicken parmesan, come with me."
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Leslie left a few of her sketches on the table, encouraging Bella to try and copy them later. Leslie, Bella and Alex followed Renee to the large marble island in the center of the room. "Alright," she began, putting a stack of raw chicken filets on a clean cutting board. "Let's get you started on these."
With Renee at the helm, the cooking lesson kicked into full gear. The air in the kitchen became thick with the scents of simmering tomato sauce and fresh herbs. Renee guided Leslie and Bella through the steps of dredging chicken cutlets, her hands skillfully demonstrating each movement.
"Now, after the egg, we dip each piece in flour," she instructed. “Make sure to coat it thoroughly. Don't forget the sides."
Leslie and Bella followed the steps, mimicking Renee's movements. The flour created a dusty cloud around her hands as she carefully coated each piece of chicken. A burst of laughter escaped her lips as a rogue sprinkle of flour landed on Bella’s nose, leaving a white smudge on her skin.
Alex watched, leaning against the countertop and he reached out and swiped a finger over the flour on Bella’s nose. Bella looked surprised but then laughed. Leslie shot Alex a smile then finished dredging the chicken. Now it was time to put the chicken in the pan with the heating oil. Renee had Leslie go first.
Suddenly, a splotch of hot oil splattered out from the pan, landing on Leslie's hand. In a swift motion, Alex was by her side, examining the small red spot. “We need to grab an ice pack,” he said.
"I'm fine, Alex," Leslie assured him. She went back to browning the chicken, loving how her pieces turned out. Bella fried her pieces as well, and soon they were done, the golden fillets resting on a plate lined with paper towels.
Renee put her hands on her hips, looking thoughtful, then said, “Bella, come with me. I need more ingredients.”
“But Grandma—”
At the sharp look that Renee gave her, Bella sighed. “Okay.”