Chapter 15 #2
Could a heart sink and soar at the same time?
Rocco felt both a fool for thinking – and saying – that Giselle and Mack might have dated, yet relieved to learn they hadn’t.
Which was even more ridiculous than worrying about whether she was eating properly, because of course she’d had boyfriends and been on dates, and she’d probably been in love as well over the last decade.
Rocco was growing concerned; he was having the most absurd notions.
And it wasn’t as though he hadn’t had love interests over the years, because he had.
Quite a few, and even though none had scratched the surface of his feelings, he’d had fun along the way.
There hadn’t been much on the dating horizon lately, though, and he blamed that on the pressures of work.
All he seemed to do was work and go to the gym, with an increasingly rare evening out with mates thrown in.
No wonder he was enjoying this little break so much.
‘What are you making?’ he asked, after watching Giselle cut the string into varying lengths and arranging them on a sheet of white card.
‘A wildflower scene. The string is the stems and the glass will be the buds and flowers. I might put a butterfly in it as well, or a dragonfly.’
He pulled up a chair and peered over her shoulder.
She scowled at him until he moved back, aware he was crowding her.
It amazed him how she could turn a piece of card and some random fragments of frosted glass into something to hang on a wall. He wished he had that kind of talent, but he didn’t have a creative bone in his body.
‘You don’t use a photo or an image to work from,’ he observed. ‘How do you know what the end result will look like?’
‘I have an idea in my head, but I rarely stick to it because a lot depends on the way the glass sits together. Flexibility is the key.’
He watched her select several pale green bits.
‘Petals,’ she announced, then fished a yellow stone out of a drawer. ‘This will be the centre of the flower.’
She played with the arrangement, swapping one piece of glass for another until she was satisfied. Then she started on the next flower, while Rocco marvelled at her patience.
When his phone rang, he considered ignoring it, fearing it was his mother.
It was Claire, however, so he decided to answer in case there was a problem with the purchase. Excusing himself, he went to stand by the door so he could slip outside if there was an issue.
‘Hi, Claire,’ he said softly. ‘What’s up?’
‘I thought I’d let you know I’ve bought the picture.’
He lowered his voice. ‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’
‘If I can do anything, or if you need anything else, give me a call.’
‘I will.’
‘Beverly tells me you’re taking some time off?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Any idea when you’ll be back?’
‘Wednesday, probably.’
‘Don’t enjoy yourself too much, will you? We need you here.’
‘And you’ll have me in a couple of days.’
‘Good, because the place isn’t the same without you.’
Rocco wasn’t sure how to respond to that. ‘See you soon,’ was all he could come up with. ‘Bye, Claire.’
He put his phone on silent and slipped it into his back pocket. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said to Giselle. ‘Where were we?’
‘I was making a picture. You were asking questions.’
‘It’s the best way to learn,’ he quipped.
‘The best way to learn is to do something yourself, not watch someone else do it.’
‘Are you suggesting I should have a go?’
‘Why not?’
‘I’m not in the least bit artistic.’
‘Give it a go,’ she urged, pushing a blank piece of card towards him.
‘What should I make?’ he asked, pulling up another stool and staring at the card apprehensively.
‘You can make the same as me, if you like.’
‘OK. What do I do?’
‘Cut some lengths of string.’
Obediently, he did as instructed. ‘Now what?’
‘Lay them on the card, like this.’ She leant across, took one of the pieces of string and placed it on the card. She was so close he could smell the magnolia scent of her hair. She was so close that if he moved his head a little, he’d be able to kiss the delicate skin beneath her ear.
Rocco cleared his throat and tucked in his chin, fighting the urge.
She said, ‘Try not to make them all the same length. Having the flowers at different heights gives the picture depth and more interest.’
She scooted back and he blew out his cheeks. ‘Right.’
‘Don’t be scared of making a mistake. You won’t be gluing anything in place until you’re one hundred per cent happy with it.’
It wasn’t making a mistake with the picture that worried him. It was his overactive libido.
Trying to keep his mind on the task in front of him, he concentrated on arranging the lengths of string, then selecting various bits of sea glass for the petals. Giselle had finished hers and was watching his progress, making him even more aware of her.
‘Try this,’ she suggested when he struggled to find a fragment for the centre of the first flower, and she handed him a yellow piece.
Thankfully, she didn’t realise the reason he was struggling was because he could feel her warmth on his arm as she peered over his shoulder, and that her nearness unsettled him.
Eventually, under Giselle’s tuition, a picture gradually came to life, and even if he said so himself, Rocco was surprisingly pleased with the result, considering his attention had been more on her than on what he was supposed to be doing.
‘Can I keep it?’ he asked.
‘You made it. It’s yours. Once it’s dry, I’ll frame it for you.’
‘You must let me pay you for it.’
Giselle burst out laughing. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s your work, not mine.’
‘Using your materials,’ he pointed out.
‘A bit of glue, a length of string, and the sea glass was free.’
‘The frame isn’t. Let me pay you for that, at least.’
‘Absolutely not.’ She folded her arms.
Rocco had to smile. Giselle might look as ethereal as mist on a summer morning, but she was as stubborn as a thick fog. He knew when he was beaten. Anyway, little did she know, but he’d had the last laugh today.
‘Join me for dinner tonight?’ he said.
‘Can’t. Too much to do. I’ve got a business to run. These pictures won’t make themselves, and if you want me to take you sightseeing tomorrow, I’m going to have to get my skates on. Now go away.’ She shooed him towards the door.
Rocco reluctantly left.
He’d have an early dinner and an early night, and try not to dwell on how he would have liked to have shared his table, and his bed, with her this evening.
‘I wanted to let you know, I’ve sold your big picture, the one of the loch,’ Jinny announced, waltzing into the studio as Giselle was about to lock the door. The rest of the crafters had left for the day, but she still had work to do so she’d be here a while yet.
Giselle felt a surge of relief at the news.
It was her most expensive piece and the proceeds would keep the wolf from her door for another week.
With a hefty mortgage to service, she was always aware of money: namely the lack of it.
It must be nice for some – like Rocco, for instance – not to have to worry about every penny.
‘Giselle, did you hear what I said?’ Jinny’s voice broke through her musing.
‘Sorry. Yes, I did. That’s fantastic news!’
‘I’m going to have to ship it, but Tara’s got a doll’s house to post, so she said she’ll arrange for the courier to collect both items at the same time, if that’s OK?’
It most certainly was! Even as Giselle had been making the picture, she’d worried that its size might put people off. After all, it wouldn’t fit into the boot of the average tourist’s car, not if they had luggage and stuff.
‘That’s great. I’ll thank Tara when I see her. Who bought it, do you know?’
‘Some woman. I didn’t speak to her; Fiona did.’
Giselle laughed. ‘So, when you say you sold my picture, it wasn’t you exactly; it was your wonderful part-time sales assistant.’
‘It’s my shop,’ Jinny said. ‘I run it. Although technically, it’s Rocco Moore’s now.’ She pulled a face. ‘For how long, is a question we’re all asking. Do I have to start looking for another job, Giselle? You’ve spent more time with him than anyone, apart from Cal; has Rocco said anything to you?’
‘Nothing you don’t already know.’
‘I suppose I’d better put some feelers out, see what’s around. If Mhairi knew, she’d be turning in her grave.’
‘I expect she must have guessed.’
Jinny sighed. ‘You’re probably right. She was a canny one, was Mhairi.
It’ll be such a shame, though. She’d worked so hard to make the craft centre work – we all have.
’ She sighed again. ‘I’ll wait a while and see what happens.
You never know; maybe whoever buys it will want to keep it just the way it is. ’
Giselle certainly hoped so, but all they could do was cross their fingers.