Chapter 2
Gia
I balance precariously on a stepladder, hanging another painting along the exposed brick wall of Sofia's restaurant. The smell of garlic and herbs wafts from the kitchen, making my stomach growl.
"Careful up there," Sofia calls from below, her hands resting protectively on her growing baby bump. "I don't need you falling and having an injury on the job."
I roll my eyes but can't help smiling. "I don’t think worker’s comp counts if you aren’t actually an employee, right?" I often help my sister in her restaurant, of course I’d never take payment for it.
Sofia chuckles, swatting my hip. "So, are we going to talk about what happened at Luca's party?"
My hand freezes midway through straightening the painting. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lie, hoping my sister will drop it.
No such luck.
"Come on, Gia. I know what I saw."
I sigh, climbing down the ladder to face my sister. "Fine. We talked. He was charming. I was interested. Then I found out who he was, and that was that."
Sofia's brow furrows with concern. "Gia, you need to be careful. The Espositos—"
"I know, I know," I interrupt, moving to adjust a crooked painting on the wall. Another one of mine, actually – an abstract piece full of swirling reds and golds. "Ancient family feuds, dangerous rivalries, yadda yadda. Trust me, I'm steering clear."
Sofia follows me, her voice softening. "It's not just that. Dominic... he's complicated. Did you know he saved Luca's life in Monaco?"
This catches me off guard. "What? When?"
"Last year, before we met. There was a shootout at a casino. Dominic tackled Luca to the ground, shielded him from the bullets. If it wasn't for him..." Sofia trails off, her hand unconsciously moving to her stomach.
I lean against the bar, processing this information. "Wow. That's... unexpected."
"I know. And I'm grateful, I am. But then there's the whole thing with the restaurant fire..."
"But Luca didn't," I say, remembering the drama from when Sofia and Luca first got together.
"Exactly. It was all a misunderstanding, but that text from Dominic caused so much trouble." Sofia sighs, absentmindedly arranging salt and pepper shakers on a nearby table. "I just don't want to see these old feuds continue, you know? Especially now, with the baby coming."
I nod, understanding her concern. "Don't worry, sis. Like I said, I'm staying far away from Dominic Esposito. No matter how good he looks in a suit."
Sofia raises an eyebrow. "That memorable, huh?"
I groan, covering my face with my hands. "It's honestly unfair. And the way he looked at me..." I shake my head, trying to clear the memory. "But it doesn't matter. He's off limits. End of story."
"Good," Sofia says, looking relieved. "Now, enough about dangerous, handsome mafia men. Tell me about your art show! I know it was a huge success."
I can't help the grin that spreads across my face. "It was amazing, Sof. I sold every single piece. The gallery owner wants to give me a solo exhibition next month."
Sofia squeals, pulling me into a hug. "That's incredible! I'm so proud of you."
As I hug her back, I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. My art career is finally taking off, my abstract oils striking a chord with collectors and critics alike. It's everything I've worked for.
"Thanks," I say, pulling back from the hug. "I just hope I can keep the momentum going. The pressure for the next show is already building."
Sofia squeezes my hand. "You've got this. Your work is beautiful, Gia. It makes people feel things."
I nod, thinking about my latest pieces – swirling canvases of deep blues and stormy grays. I'd started them the night after Luca's party, unable to sleep, my mind replaying that encounter at the bar over and over.
Not that I'd ever admit that to Sofia.
"Anyway," I say, changing the subject. "What else needs doing before you open?"
We spend the next couple of hours prepping the restaurant, chatting about Sofia's pregnancy cravings and my upcoming art projects. By the time I leave, the sun is setting, casting long shadows across the bustling New York streets.
My loft is only a few blocks away, a converted warehouse space that's more art studio than living area. I unlock the heavy sliding door and step inside, immediately kicking off my shoes and heading for my easel.
The canvas I've been working on looms large in the center of the room, a swirl of dark colors punctuated by flashes of crimson. I pick up a brush, dipping it in deep blue paint, and lose myself in the work.
As I paint, my mind drifts back to that night at Luca's party. The way Dominic's eyes had locked onto mine, the heat in his gaze making my breath catch. The low timbre of his voice as he'd leaned in close, his cologne a heady mix of sandalwood and spice.
"See something you like?" I'd asked, trying to mask my instant attraction with bravado.
His response plays in my head: "Just admiring the view. It's not often you see a work of art brought to life."
I snort, shaking my head at the memory. It was a cheesy line, but damn if it hadn't worked on me. The way his eyes had sparkled with amusement, the quirk of his lips as he'd waited for my response...
With a groan, I set down my brush, staring at the canvas. Without realizing it, I've added streaks of gold to the painting, reminiscent of the whiskey in Dominic's glass that night.
"Get it together, Gia," I mutter to myself, wiping my paint-stained hands on my already stained jeans. "He's off limits, remember?"
As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a text. It's from Rachel, the owner of the gallery where I show my work:
"Darling, pop by the gallery when you can. Exciting news!"
I glance at the clock – it's late, but Rachel keeps odd hours. Deciding a distraction is exactly what I need, I grab my purse and head out.
The gallery is housed in an old Art Deco building, its faded grandeur a perfect backdrop for the contemporary art within. I jab at the elevator button, tapping my foot impatiently as I wait.
"Come on, you ancient piece of junk," I mutter as the elevator creaks and groans its way down to the lobby. When the doors finally open with a reluctant ding, I step inside, saying a silent prayer that I won't get stuck.
Rachel is waiting for me when I finally make it to the top floor, her silver hair wild around her face and a mischievous glint in her eye.
"There's my star!" she exclaims, pulling me into a hug that smells of patchouli and turpentine. "I was beginning to think that deathtrap of an elevator had finally claimed a victim."
I laugh, following her into the gallery proper. "Not today, though it was a close call. So, what's this exciting news?"
Rachel's grin widens as she leads me to a small sitting area tucked away in a corner. "Sit, sit! I have the most delicious news for you."
I perch on the edge of an overstuffed armchair, raising an eyebrow at Rachel's obvious excitement. "Okay, spill. What's got you so worked up?"
"Well," Rachel begins, leaning in conspiratorially, "you know how well your pieces have been selling, right? Of course you do, you're brilliant. But what you don't know is that we've had a very... interesting buyer."
My curiosity piques. "Interesting how?"
Rachel's eyes sparkle. "Interesting as in, he bought three of your largest pieces. In cash. And he's inquiring about commissioning more."
I feel my jaw drop. "Three? But those were my most expensive works!"
"I know!" Rachel cackles, clapping her hands together. "It's marvelous, isn't it? He barely blinked at the price. Just pointed to the ones he wanted and pulled out a wad of cash like it was nothing."
A mix of excitement and unease swirls in my stomach. "That's... wow. I can’t believe it."
Rachel's expression turns sly. "Yes, he had quite the eye. Said the paintings spoke to him. He was pretty easy on the eyes himself, too."
I laugh, shaking my head at Rachel's antics. No telling what kind of rich elderly bachelor she’s set her sights on this time. "Alright, alright. So, what does this mean for me? Besides a very nice payday, of course."
"It means, my dear, that you're on the cusp of something big. This kind of interest? It could launch you into the stratosphere." Rachel leans back, fixing me with a serious look. "I want you to start thinking bigger. Bolder. Your next show needs to be spectacular."
I nod, my mind already racing with possibilities. "I won't let you down, Rachel. I've got some new ideas I've been working on..."
We spend the next hour discussing concepts for my upcoming solo exhibition. By the time I leave, my head is buzzing with plans and my heart is light with excitement.
As I step out onto the street, the cool night air a welcome relief after the stuffy gallery, I can't help but feel like I'm on the brink of something life-changing. My art career is taking off, I've got a mysterious wealthy buyer interested in my work, and for once, everything seems to be falling into place.
Well, except for my love life. Thoughts of Dominic and the way he looked at me have my blood pumping again as I make my way back home. I often stay up until dawn painting when I can’t sleep, and I have a feeling tonight is definitely going to be one of those nights.