Dress Normally: Why fix what isn't broken?

Giuliana didn't think it was vain so much as it was frank appraisal to think that the way she normally dressed was enough to make most any man's blood rush away from his thinking head: especially since giving birth to her three daughters had gone against all odds and left her body with better curves than she'd possessed before marrying her now faithless bastard of a husband.

She took a deep breath, willing herself to not get too worked up. It wouldn't do to lose her composure when she needed to be ready to meet with a potential ally.

Moving with a sense of purpose that had served her well back when she had possessed the maiden name of Montressori she entered her closet to prepare herself to leave the house and be ready to go.

First she slipped on the compression underwear that allowed her to slip her Glock 26 9mm into the space near the small of her back. She brought up her flowing knee length black skirt over it, certain from previous experience that between her body shape and the color of the pistol that no one except the most paranoid security experts would manage to spot the weapon.

After slipping on her white 38D bra, she threw on a brown short sleeved shirt that on most other women would've been fairly modest. But on her less than modest bust it became a tantalizing and mouth watering window of cleavage that hinted at the treasures waiting beneath her clothing. Her wedding and engagement rings rested on her right ring finger as ever, feeling heavier than they ever had: including that time Giuseppe had almost managed to lose their two story house gambling with some of the more...unscrupulous poker buddies he'd acquired for a while.

She donned her grandmother Mariella's plain, unadorned gold crucifix. Even now it served as a reminder of a simpler time in her life before she truly understood what her father and grandfather did to provide for their families. After the crucifix was clasped and she felt the slightly cool metal rest between her pendulous breasts, she did her hair up in a loose bun: pinning them with what appeared to be an ornate pin. In reality it was a smooth but spike like stiletto she'd had custom made so that she could always have a way to fight back even should she be deprived of her Glock.

Taking a look in the full length mirror she debated applying makeup but decided that there wasn't a need for it. Her naturally longer eyelashes didn't need mascara in order to work their magic and blush would be mostly wasted on her olive complexion. Bringing an easy smile to her face, she was disappointed to note that there was still a storm within her hazel eyes but decided that it would be for the best she focus on her girls and their innocent smiles when she saw them. That always managed to cheer her up even during the worst times of her marriage.

Arriving at St. Cecilia's with five minutes to spare, she parked the family car and sat herself upon one of the backless stone benches nearby the entrance so that she could intercept the girls before they could get too far. The bell tolled in the clock tower to signal the end of the day and a veritable throng of uniformed children rushed out to reach the buses and their parents. Scanning the crowd, Giuliana spotted her eldest twins Maria and Lorena speeding with the vim typical to nine year olds who only wanted to get home after being **** to sit still for so long.

"Girls!" She called, waving lazily from the bench as her voice carried over the general hubub of the school's dismissal for the day.

She frowned internally as she noticed they hadn't appeared to have waited for their six year old little sister Theresa even though she'd told them many a time to stick together and look out for each other.

As they rushed up to her with identical cries of "Mama!" she adopted a sterner expression.

"Dov'è tua sorella?" [Where is your little sister?] She asked them with a raised eyebrow.

Lorena sheepishly averted her eyes, knowing their mother hadn't been happy with them leaving little Theresa behind before.

"Abbiamo provato ad aspettare Mama!" [We tried waiting for her Mama!] Maria answered fearlessly.

"Ma lei era così lenta che abbiamo pensato che saremmo finiti in attesa!" [But she was so slow we thought we'd be run over waiting!] She finished, waving her arms wildly in the air as if doing so would show how much she meant what she said.

"Quello che ti ho detto-" [What have I told you about-] Giuliana started before hearing a familiar young voice on the air.

"Mama!" Called Theresa as she rushed over and happily embraced her mother's stomach where she sat.

Slightly astounded at Theresa's sudden appearance, Giuliana instinctively looked in the direction her youngest had just come from only to be brought up short by seeing the headmaster she'd spoken to some hours ago walking sedately toward them.

"Mrs. Benedetti." He greeted briefly, wire rim glasses flashing briefly in the sunlight as he nodded his head toward her respectfully.

"Headmaster Ryan." She greeted in return.

"Thank you for finding her." She said.

"It seems her sisters thought they'd be run over by being nice enough to wait." She remarked, tossing a sideways look at Maria who awkwardly scratched the back of her neck at the mild but clear rebuke in her mother's sentence.

"Twas no trouble at all. I'd thought to catch her sisters so they'd know to wait, but it seems they found you first." He said with a careless shrug.

"Mama?" Lorena questioned softly.

"I have a meeting with your headmaster today girls. I want you to take Theresa to the library and get a start on your homework for me, alright?" She instructed, giving said youngest girl a brief hug before gently nudging her over to her sisters.

"But-" Maria started before stopping at her mother's look.

"Yes Mama." She said reluctantly, holding out her right hand for Theresa to take.

The smallest Benedetti girl happily put her left hand in Maria's right, her own right hand finding Lorena's left as they walked back inside obediently.

"You've gotten them quite well trained." Came the soft observation from her right.

Standing up while briefly smoothing out the minute wrinkles in the front of her skirt, Giuliana turned toward Thomas.

"Well, my mother was sure to train me early as well." She said.

"Shall we?" She asked as the last of the rush cleared out, leaving only a few milling about though all out of earshot.

"After you Madonna." He answered, walking toward the front entrance and holding the door open for her to enter as she walked beside him.

Soon enough they were in the office, Thomas having briefly telling his red-headed secretary Mary that they weren't to be disturbed.

As he closed and locked the office door behind them, his soft smile became a carefully blank look of neutrality as she sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk by habit. To her surprise, he sat in the other chair just to the right of it instead of behind the desk.

"Now, what is this really all about Mrs. Benedetti?" He asked, his Irish brogue lending a lyrical roughness to his question as Giuliana debated how open she should be with him now that she was here.