Chapter 9
Giovanni
The shop is blissfully quiet today. I’m using the alone time to double check my kit and review my checklist in preparation for Milan.
Extra beads, thread, my favorite pair of scissors, anti-static spray, measuring tape, micro-stitch gun…
I make mental checks next to each item before surveying the space for the tenth time.
Nothing looks out of place, and I’m confident I’ve packed what I need.
Just as I’m zipping up my bag, I hear a loud banging on the front door.
Odd. Lu and Micheletto know that I’m leaving tomorrow morning, and there’s no one else that would visit the shop without warning.
I walk toward the front to find out who my surprise visitor is, and do a double take when I find Tessa on my doorstep.
I wasn’t expecting to see her again before Milan, especially after the events of last night. Emotions were running high, and I said some things in a way that I regret. Maybe we both did. Regardless, I don’t want any unnecessary tension following us to Italy.
When I unlock the door, I can tell something’s off about her.
Her cheeks are flushed, and there are faint shadows underneath her eyes.
Her normally styled, wavy hair is messy, and perhaps most concerning of all—her full lips don’t have their usual shine.
No signature lip gloss? Is she having a mental breakdown?
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you having a mental breakdown?”
“Did you pack extra glass beads?”
“What?”
“Did you pack extra glass beads? The Miyukis? Also, the crystals—we need replacement crystals in case of emergency. And metallic thread.” Tessa sets her large canvas bag on the floor and starts aggressively pacing.
“Of course I packed extra beads. This isn’t my first circus.”
Tessa halts her movements and shoots me a look. “It’s rodeo. With the bulls, and the clowns and—the crystals. Did you say you packed extra crystals?” Resuming her frantic pace, she continues pummeling me with directions.
“I packed plenty of crystals. Stop telling me what to do.”
She throws her hands in the air. “Men can’t be trusted to pack, Giovanni. One time, I sent my brother to the grocery store, and it was an absolute disaster. I knew asking for raspberries was a risk, but like, every single one was smooshed… I would’ve been better off asking for jam.”
I smirk, knowing exactly what I need to say to calm her down.
“You need to calm down.”
Tessa slowly turns toward me. “Calm down? Calm down? Have you ever met a human woman before? I’m pretty sure it’s against the law to say that now.”
Her initial overwhelm is slowly morphing into her usual frustration, and I can tell it is calming her down, being here in my shop, going back and forth with me. I have to stop myself from grinning.
She huffs. “Anyway, you never answered my question. Did you pack extra thread? We need to make sure there are enough shades of the metallic, too, because they’re custom and won’t be easily found in Milan.”
“Ask me one more question, and I’ll ban you from my shop.”
Tessa flutters her eyelashes dramatically. “You have no idea how I’ve longed to hear those words from you. Do you mind saying them again? Slower this time, so I can really savor this moment. Actually, can I record?”
I love playing with her like this. Her mockery of me is becoming increasingly counterproductive to my self-control.
“You know, Tessa, if you keep this up, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.” I pause. “That reminds me. I made something for you.” Reaching into my pocket for the swatch, I come up empty. I must’ve set it somewhere in the back. “Hold on.”
Tessa calls after me. “Don’t worry about me! I’ll just stand here and age in real time while you do whatever it is that you’re doing!”
Ignoring her with a smile, I walk to my office and open my desk drawer.
Ah, there it is. This swatch is a little different from my usual.
I pushed a small handful of polyfill, a soft pillow stuffing, between the two squares of fabric.
Ordering polyester physically pained me, but it was worth it.
The homemade stress ball squishes perfectly in my hand.
When I start walking toward Tessa, she’s on the phone with her back facing me. I’m not sure if I should go back into my office or not, but she seems to be wrapping up, so I decide to stay.
“You know I won’t give you a phone number. Meet me? That’s rich, coming from—” She stops talking. “It’s bad timing for me, anyway. I’m actually on my way to Italy, and…” She digs her heel into the ground and gives a caustic laugh. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve learned not to make plans in pen.”
Tessa ends the call and pivots around, startling when she finds me watching her.
“Were you listening to my conversation?”
I point to the “no cell phones” sign hanging on the wall. “You’re breaking policy.”
I expect some sort of insult back, but she just gives me a blank stare. “Right.”
When I take a few steps closer to Tessa, her small frown and slumped posture are more noticeable.
“Who were you talking to?”
“I don’t think there’s a shop policy against keeping personal conversations personal.” Her eyes narrow, but there’s no bite behind her words.
Hoping to bring her spark back, I hold out the stress ball swatch, and she takes it in silence. Brushes her thumb against the fabric. Stares at it. Looks back up at me.
“I’m sorry for answering the call in your shop. It didn’t end up being important, anyway.” Her voice comes out completely monotone.
My brows furrow in confusion. What happened on that call?
Tessa gives the homemade stress ball a small squeeze, holding it up. “I should get going. See you in Milan, Giovanni.”
She picks up her bag, setting the swatch inside, and walks out of my shop, leaving me alone to question who dared to dim her light.