Chapter 4
The project is coming along well. We've had some hiccups, of course, but right now it's turning out perfectly.
Carter has been a great partner, even though this isn't really his area.
That's how we've been working—I design and send it to Mr. Arrogant, he makes tons of changes, which I expected, but we're making good progress.
It's been almost two months since we started working on the restaurant.
I went to see the space, and it's beautiful.
Ideas just flooded my mind, and I started developing all of them.
At first, I presented two design options, and we ended up blending a bit of each.
The intimate dining area was also approved—Carter thought it was wonderful.
And since the upstairs has a gorgeous space with a view, I included a glass wall in the design so customers can take in the lights and people below, and even the night sky.
The biggest task now is the furniture. We want sophisticated yet rustic tables, so we decided on square and rectangular wooden tables with comfortable brown booth seating.
As I was wrapping up the project, I felt something was missing, so I decided to add a full glass wall on the lower level too—just one wall—which would provide a spectacular view of Grand Central Station and the Chrysler Building.
Almost everything was ready, but I decided to make a change, so I rushed to Carter's office to get his opinion. I gave three light knocks on the door and he called me in.
“Excuse me, Carter, I had an idea and it couldn't wait. If you're not busy, can I show you now?”
“Of course, Emma, please have a seat.” I grab my iPad and show him. He takes a moment before responding.
“Where did you get this idea?”
“Well, if you don't like it, we can take it out and leave things as they were.”
“It's spectacular, Emma. I don't know how we didn't think of this before.”
“When I went there this week, I stepped outside and noticed that view. As it was getting dark—the lights, the magic of the place—that's when I decided on the glass wall. I know it might seem too exposed, but we can use PKO privacy glass, which gives customers their privacy.”
“Emma, I feel this project was given to the right person.
Someone else might not have made it as perfect as you're making it—thinking about customer comfort, the structure, while still meeting Mattia's wishes. Speaking of him, I need you to get in touch, show him the changes, and get his approval so we can start construction.”
“Yes, we've dragged this out long enough with all these changes. It's time to get things moving. I'll do that now,” I say, getting up from my chair and heading out.
I sit at my desk, pull up the project on my computer, and send a “hello” on WhatsApp. He responds right away.
“Hello, Miss Emma. I hope this is important. I'm in the middle of a contract I need to finish reading for a meeting.”
“Sorry to interrupt, sir. I'm only reaching out because we've finished the project. However, I made a significant change, and I'd like your approval so we can finally start construction.”
“Let's see it. Send it to me. I'll evaluate it and get back to you shortly,” he says and goes offline, as he always does.
I send only the change I made and wait, hoping for quick approval.
Carter chose the company that will handle the construction—I'll just be inspecting to make sure everything matches the design.
They're all ready to start. We were supposed to have a final meeting for me to present the entire project, but Mr. Mattia had some issues and couldn't make it.
So we've been keeping in constant contact virtually.
Every day he would call me when I was out of the office, and even when I was at home, I'd get messages from him asking how the project was going.
I snapped out of my daydream when I noticed my phone vibrating. I looked at the screen, and the contact labeled Mr. Arrogant was flashing. I answered right away.
“Hello, sir, have you alre—”
“Approved. You can start the project now, and in three days I'll be there to oversee things in person,” he says and hangs up. I huff, irritated by his rudeness. Is he always like this? Poor girlfriend. I'm fuming over how he treats people when Carter appears at that moment.
“I see you've already talked to Mattia.” He laughs.
“Is he always like this? This arrogant? Sorry, Carter, I know he's your friend.”
“No problem, Emma, I’m used to it, and yes, he’s always been like this. But tell me, did he like it?”
“Yes, it’s approved—we can start construction.”
“The site is ready to go. Can I count on you being there tomorrow?”
“Absolutely, I’ll head straight there tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow, then.”
He says goodbye and leaves. I tidy up my desk and decide to head out too. I need to be well-rested tomorrow—we’re starting construction, and I know I’ll be there all day making sure everything goes according to plan.
I wake up wanting nothing more than to roll over and sleep for just another half hour, but the alarm won’t let me, so I drag myself up and take a shower.
Today construction begins, and based on the schedule, we have one more month of working together.
I grab my coffee and head straight to the site that’s going to be the restaurant.
When I arrive, I see workers rushing back and forth everywhere.
I hope everything goes according to plan, and if possible, that we finish ahead of schedule.
We’ve been working here for almost two weeks now, and it’s looking beautiful.
Walls were torn down, and now floor-to-ceiling glass windows have taken their place—it turned out wonderfully, and the view is perfect.
The bar is ready too. Now we’re working on the landscaping, choosing which plants to use and what paint color to go with.
It’s Saturday, and here I am, crouched down with several cans of different colors around me and a test wall in front of me.
Since there’s so much wood in here, I went with a more neutral tone.
Even though plenty of light comes through the glass wall during the day, at night we need a cozy atmosphere.
The weather in the city is pretty nice, so I threw on denim overalls with a white blouse underneath and pulled my hair back in a ponytail.
I’m crouched next to the paint cans, brush in hand, testing a shade on the wall—one I’m not really loving—when I sense someone near me.
I glance to the side, see a man, and stand up.
“Hi, good afternoon. I’m here looking at the colors your people brought for testing, and I don’t know if my idea is any good, but as you can see, we have a lot of wood, so the space will be dark at night.
That’s why I was thinking a more subtle tone, like that one over there.
” I put my hand on his arm, accidentally getting paint on him, and point to a very light cream shade.
I notice he doesn’t respond, so I look up at him.
Wait—I think I know those eyes. Just then, something catches my attention behind him.
I look through the glass door and see him.
Yes, my ex-fiancé. I turn pale and break out in a cold sweat.
Startled, I take a step back, tripping over the paint cans and nearly falling.
“Careful, ragazza, I don’t want anyone getting hurt on my construction site,” he says in that perfect Italian accent, and now I realize who’s really there, grabbing my waist to keep me from falling—and me, lost in those perfect blue eyes.