Chapter 48
LA FA?ON, MANHATTAN
‘Mr Manning, is everything OK in here?’
Luca looked up at the sound of Sybille’s voice.
He hadn’t even heard her come into the main room but somehow she was standing next to him in front of three jackets he had been deliberating over for the past thirty minutes or more.
One of them had that new garment smell he liked and it was trying to affect his decision-making.
And there was another decision he had made after speaking to Steffi.
His sister was a Marcello and there was no wanting to distance herself from that, unlike him.
But someone else. Gabriella. Who already had more than enough to handle in her life.
He needed to keep her as far away from that toxicity as possible.
‘Yes, everything’s great,’ he answered, nodding.
‘Really? Then who are these terrible coats destined for?’ Sybille asked.
‘You don’t like any of them?’
‘Not for Gabriella Felix. And, that is who they’re for, is it not?’
‘Actually,’ Luca began. ‘I had a meet with Robin Astoria. She saw one of the articles from the Zeeta Friedmann show and asked me to put together something for a charity event.’
‘And you have time for that?’ Sybille said, eyes querying. ‘When you have to style Gabriella Felix? And since when did clients get taken on without my input?’
He felt the deep scrutiny and judgement, whether it was really there or not. He had to do this. It was the safest thing for everybody. ‘So, Sybille, I was wondering if you might have time to take Gabriella on for the rest of her book events.’
‘No,’ Sybille answered straight away.
‘But—’
‘Did you not hear me, Luca? I said no.’
‘I heard you but—’
‘Then you have my answer.’
‘But, why?’
Sybille sighed. ‘Because I always knew this was going to happen one day and now it is happening it needs to do exactly that… happen.’
He frowned. ‘I don’t know what you mean. I just thought that you might—’
‘Take over dressing Gabriella Felix because you’re starting to have feelings for her?’ Sybille asked bluntly. ‘And you won’t face the implications of that.’
‘No!’ Luca exclaimed. ‘That’s not it. That would be completely unprofessional and I am not unprofessional.’
Sybille shook her head. ‘You are a terrible liar, Mr Manning. And why do you lie?’
He bit his lip. Because that was all he had ever known.
Because he lied every single day being Luca Manning.
He didn’t want that in his life going forward but what choice did he have?
The alternative was danger, as had been demonstrated already.
But was the answer spending the rest of his days still running away?
‘I don’t know,’ he said with a sigh.
Sybille put a hand on his shoulder. ‘Talk to me, Luca.’
‘I can’t,’ he said. He moved away, into the shaft of winter sunlight coming through the large arched windows, towards that view of the city decorated for the holidays. He felt a tight breath gather in his chest.
‘Do you know, when I first rented this space, before I bought it, I spent the first six months pretending to be someone else,’ Sybille said. She arrived at his side and stood in the sunlight next to him.
He waited for her to continue but there was nothing coming from her, the only sound the faint hum of the traffic below. Finally, he spoke. ‘Why?’
‘Why do you think?’ Sybille asked him.
He shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’
‘Really? You do not have any idea what it is like to feel in all aspects of your life that you are the square peg for a round hole?’
His stance wavered a little. ‘Is that how you felt?’
‘Yes,’ Sybille stated firmly. ‘Sometimes I still do but, the difference is, now I do not give any shits about it.’ She moved closer to the window, until she was right up to the glass.
‘I am French. A migrant. Much rarer a species then than now. I was starting a business that most people considered to be unnecessary, a hobby of dress-up, or an art form people like to look at but take little real notice of. And I let those things dominate my thinking. Perhaps I was crazy. Maybe I was not good enough to be in the great New York City with these hopes and dreams but, one day…’ She sighed, stopped talking.
‘One day what happened?’
She turned to face him. ‘One day I realised that I was the one who would ruin my hopes and dreams if I didn’t stop pretending.’
He swallowed. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t imagine you ever pretending to be anything for anyone.’
‘And I highly suspect everyone would think the same about you,’ Sybille countered. ‘But that’s the nature of survival, is it not?’
He shook his head, but he felt that something had shifted between them, and his instincts were caught somewhere between opening up and shutting down.
‘Luca, look at me,’ Sybille ordered.
‘I don’t want to,’ he answered, turning his head away.
‘I know you don’t, Luca. Because you know that I see you now. But what you don’t know is that… I’ve always seen you.’
Now he looked at her and there was something behind those pale blue eyes that was speaking to his truth. But she couldn’t know, could she?
‘When you walked in here with my favourite lemon dessert, you thought it was the first time I had seen you but, like you, research is one of my greatest strengths.’ She smiled.
‘I saw you many times before that, taking coffee at the same seat in the window of the same spot, most of the time alone, sometimes with your sister where you played your game… fake or fide.’
Now his eyes were open wide as he stared at her. This just wasn’t possible.
Sybille smiled. ‘I joined in that game with you sometimes, only in my head, and you never once made a mistake. That’s when I knew that there was a reason you were appearing in my favourite café, that fashion was your passion too and that one day, when you plucked up the courage to approach me, I would give you the opportunity you craved. ’
‘I don’t understand,’ Luca said, shocked to the core at this revelation. ‘You were following me? Before I was following you?’
‘Now you make it sound creepy,’ Sybille said.
‘It was not like that. And I do not know who began first. Only that I saw you, dressed simply, yes, yet you were styled. The thin lines on your shirt matched the colour of your shoes, the lining of your jacket was the exact hue of the buttons. It was attention to detail to the extreme and it was exceptional. It is exceptional. You are exceptional, Luca Marcello.’
Tears were burning his eyes as she delivered his last name, his birth name, and it seemed to echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and back again to sear his heart. He hung his head, never feeling more foolish than he did now.
‘No,’ Sybille said, lifting his head with her index finger. ‘You do not do that. You look at me. You face me and you face what you are feeling right here, right now.’ She sighed. ‘Perhaps this is my fault for giving you too much time to keep pretending.’
‘How can I look at you?’ he asked, embarrassed. ‘Now I am even more ashamed, knowing that you know I lied to you, all this time.’
‘Pretended, Luca. Pretended sounds better. Kinder.’
‘But it’s the same thing, ultimately.’
‘Perhaps,’ Sybille admitted. ‘But, when there is no malintent, it matters less, don’t you think?’
He wasn’t sure that was true. He fisted his eyes, trying to dab the tears away as fast as his eyes were filling. ‘So what happens now?’
‘Now you know that I know you come from an infamous family who are rumoured to be more dangerous than Al Capone ever was?’
‘Something like that.’
‘What do you think happens, Luca?’
‘I think everything changes.’ How could it not?
‘I think you are right,’ Sybille agreed.
He nodded. His life was always going to alter again at some point. That’s what happened whenever his father infiltrated proceedings; it made no difference whether he was in prison or not.
‘But not how you think,’ Sybille added. ‘It’s time you stopped hiding the truth and stopped pretending, exactly like I had to.
And it starts here, with me telling you that I know you’re Luca Marcello.
I have always known since before the moment you started working here… and it makes no difference to me.’
‘I’m sorry, Sybille,’ he said, his voice choked up, ‘that I wasn’t honest.’
‘Oh, Luca, you have nothing to be sorry for. Because I wasn’t honest with you either. I could have told you that I knew from the beginning, but I didn’t. I suppose because one day I hoped it would come from you.’
‘And it didn’t.’
‘But it still could,’ Sybille said. ‘For Gabriella Felix.’
He blew out a tight breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding. ‘I don’t know if I can, Sybille. Because it’s a burden. To know. To be who I am and then be that person for someone else.’
‘Luca,’ she said, taking his hands in hers. ‘Your father’s legacy of crime is not who you are. It is just what you were born into and where you came from. You can be whoever you choose to be and you know this already because you are living it, every single day.’
He knew this. He had battled to have the opportunity to live life his way, yet it still didn’t feel as whole as it should.
‘Let me ask you this,’ Sybille began. ‘To make things clearer. What is it you would be most scared of? Telling Gabriella about your family and risking losing her but with the knowledge that you acted with a brave heart? Or not telling Gabriella, carrying on pretending until it gets too much and dishonesty makes you lose her anyway?’
That was no choice. What he had to do if he wanted to explore their connection had just been laid completely bare by his boss. He nodded and sniffed away the emotion filling his head and his heart.
‘So, I want you to do two things for me,’ Sybille said, giving his hands a squeeze and then letting them go.
‘Anything,’ he answered.
‘Firstly, you continue dressing Gabriella. That’s non-negotiable. What you decide to do about your personal feelings, well, it is up to you, of course.’
‘And the second thing?’
‘Well, that is up to you too, but I wondered if you might like to ask Errol to come here for a conversation,’ Sybille said matter-of-factly.
‘A conversation?’ Luca asked.
‘Perhaps it is time we thought about bringing someone else on board,’ Sybille said. ‘And if his eye is really as good as you seem to think then I need to make sure he isn’t snapped up by one of our contemporaries.’
‘Sybille,’ Luca said, ‘I promise you, Errol is something special but I’m not sure how he will feel about leaving his emporium.’
‘Well, I am very adaptable. I’m sure there will be a way we can work things out between us if it’s what he wants.’
Luca put his arms around Sybille then, hugging her so tight he almost lifted her off her feet. ‘Thank you, Sybille.’
‘Ce n’est rien. It is nothing.’ She dabbed at the corner of her own eyes before she smiled. ‘Now, talk to me about these awful jackets.’