Turn Towards the Sun (25 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Domenico

BOOK: Turn Towards the Sun
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“Um how about
never.”

“Do you want to join us?”

“That’s a dumb question. Of course! What should I pack?” We chat like giggling schoolgirls over outfits, shopping, and shoes.

“I’ll call you later with all the details.”

“Thanks Ava, this is incredible.”

Laughing, I reply, “Welcome to my world.”

Enzo glances up at me. “What does that mean, welcome to your world?”

“She said this was incredible. That’s how my life is now, incredible.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me to him. I stand in front of him bare, his eyes traveling up and down my body.

“You’ve lost weight.”

“Have I?
Well I admit I didn’t have much of an appetite, what with losing my job and almost losing you.”
I lower my eyes, remembering what a tough week it was.
Normally,
I would have pigged out
with that much stress going on,
but strangely enough, I could barely get myself to eat anything at all.

“You were never in danger of losing me amore.” He kisses the back of my hand. “Come, let’s get you fed.”

We jump in the shower, focused only on cleanliness. I put on my blue sundres
s with the yellow daisies
and wrap my hair back in the bun.

“Don’t put any makeup on. You’re most beautiful naturally.”

Enzo stands
in the doorway to the bathroom, watching me like he does
.
I rub in some eye cream and apply a light coat of lip gloss and leave it at that.

“Ta da!” I exaggerate.

“Perfetto.”
Perfect. He thinks I’m perfect. I grin.

“Why don’t we go to Girasole and eat with Paolo?”

“Sure, sounds great.”

We drive over to the familiar hotel and swing into valet.

“Can we go say hi to Stephanie?”

“Certo.”

I look at him with a puzzled expression
.

“Of course.” He smiles.

“Certo.” I repeat. It sounds like chair-toe when I say it but when he says it, it sounds like music.

“Very good Ava.” He rubs the small of my
back,
and I feel a tingle throughout my body.

We walk into Sassy and see Stephanie setting up a new display. She looks up and waves happily. The store looks completely
different,
and it’s buzzing with activity. Several women are waiting to check out while the salesgirls rush to take care of them. Enzo is pleased.

“The store looks really
good,
Stephanie.” Enzo
says
.

“Thank you. Normally I wouldn’t
set up a display during such a busy
time,
but we just got this shipment that I know is going to be a hit.”

I pick up a gorgeous deep red dress. It has strategic
cutouts
along the bust line in various spots and a
form-fitting
design. It’s the perfect going out dress. Stephanie is holding a sign that says, ‘Check out the latest design by Suzette’. I don’t know who Suzette is but Enzo’s eyes widen.

“How did you get those?” He
asks
.

Stephanie’s smile widens. “My sister is her hairdresser’s best friend. I just called and asked if my sister could get me in touch with her. I called Suzette’s assistant and explained we were re-launching our product line and would like to feature her dresses. A week later I received approval for ten dresses. If they sell well, Suzette will consider an exclusive line for Sassy. We can carry it in all our retail outlets nationwide.”

Enzo looks at Stephanie, then at me, his eyes wide in disbelief. His face spreads into a smile.

“Ava, Suzette is a young French designer who has been creating a lot of buzz since she hit the fashion scene last year.” Enzo explains.

Stephanie raises a finger and runs in the back
office,
returning with some papers.

“Here are the profit sheets for the last two weeks.”

Enzo looks them over,
then
his eyebrows rise. “A thirty percent increase in profits?”

“Yes. It’s just a
two-week period,
but I think the Suzette dresses are going to be big.” She states proudly.

“Where are the Maca dresses?” Enzo looks around. Oh yes
,
the infamous Maca dresses that took down little miss bitch.

“I’m not reordering them. In my
opinion,
they are the wrong demographic for this store. In the last
year,
I’ve seen our clientele get younger. Maca is for women over fifty. Our primary group right now is between 30-45.”

A group of women have already started gathering curio
usly around the Suzette display. W
e step back to give them room.

“I’m going to finish okay?”

Enzo nods. She turns her attention back to the display and puts the sign on top of the rack, quickly hanging the ten dresses. I hear the excited squeals of rich women on a shopping high.

“Do you want one of them Ava?”

I shake my head even though the dresses are stunning.

“There are only ten. Let the store sell them.”

He ignores me and walks to the display. The group of women part like the red sea as he approaches. He selects my size and then turns to me and smiles. The eyes of the women follow his to me. That’s right
bitches,
he’s mine. I get a little thrill as I gloat internally.

He walks back and hands it to me.

“I want you to have it.” His voice does that raspy thing he gets when he wants me.

“Okay.” How could I resist?

He walks to the now deserted sales counter and hands one of the girls a credit card and the dress. All the women in the store have flocked to the Suzette display and Stephanie and another girl are managing the throng of women. There aren’t enough dresses for all of
them,
and I hope I’m not about to witness a shopping withdrawal riot. The display is quickly emptied as the women rush back to ring up their purchases. Enzo returns with my wrapped dress. We stand watching the frenzy.

“The dresses sold out in less than five minutes Enzo.” I say, in disbelief. He nods.

Stephanie rushes back to us, giddy.

“I can’t wait to report this back to Suzette!” She uses her phone to take a picture of the women holding the dres
ses at checkout. “We just made fifteen thousand dollars
!

Each dress costs fifteen hundred
dollars,
and I have one? Un. Freaking. Believable.

“How did you have the right size selection Stephanie?” I ask curious.

“I just ordered a variety up to a size ten. In this town, these dresses are so prized that you’ll go on a diet if it’s the only size left.”

“You’re doing a wonderful job Stephanie. Keep it up.”

Stephanie smiles, satisfied with Enzo’s approval.

Dominic, Enzo’s new hotel manager, greets us as we walk through the lobby. Dominic is very Spanish and very gay. His Spanish good looks and European charm fit in nicely with the lush Mediterranean feel of the hotel. He’s perfect. They chat for a moment about the
property,
and Enzo nods
,
satisfied all is well.

“It’s such a relief everything is running the way it should. Thanks to you.” He squeezes my arm. I smile back. Entering Milano, Paolo welcomes us. The restaurant is
full,
but we have Enzo’s table reserved in the corner.

“I love this place Enzo. It’s this hidden paradise in the desert. But can I make a suggestion?”

He looks up at me, interested.

“The name of the hotel is Girasole right? Sunflower. But there are no sunflowers anywhere. There should be art or murals or something.

“We have pictures in the lobby.” He says.

“I know. But what about the rest of the property?”

He ponders my suggestion. I know Francesca designed
everything,
so I tread lightly.

“What would you like to see?”

“I think it should be subtle
and
not in your face. Just touches here and there.”

He pulls out his phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Checca.”

Shit. They have a discussion in Italian and of
course,
I’m lost.

“She’ll be here soon.”

“Is she mad at me?” I don’t want to be the one that lights the fuse on that little firecracker.

“Mad at you? No. She wants to hear your thoughts.”


I don’t know anything about design. I shouldn’t overstep my boundaries.”

“Ava my love, you have no boundaries. You know more than you think.
Your
instincts are very good. And Checca genuinely wants to hear wh
at you think.”

Francesca arrives in a flurry of Italian sophistication. She’s cut her dark black hair into a dramatic bob that suits her petite frame. Her rich
,
olive skin contrasts beautifully against the sleeveless yellow dress she’s wearing. She’s lined her huge blue eyes in dramatic
gray
eyeliner and smeared her lips with nude lipstick. She’s wearing stunningly high gold wedge sandals and walks like a pro in them. She has a huge red handbag tucked in the crook of her arm and enters the restaurant speaking loudly on the phone about fabric swatches. I can only hope to aspire to her level of class. She ends her call and kisses us both on each cheek.

“Yes, Ava.” She jumps right in. “Tell me your ideas.”

I’m silent. I don’t know what to say.

“I want to know Ava. I struggled with this. I don’t want the hotel to look like a theme or a watercolor. I want class and sophistication. But Enzo says you don’t think the sunflowers are represented enough.”

I cringe.
“I was just thinking, maybe some accents.”

“Like?” She pulls out her notepad.

Okay, here goes. “Well like the female staff could wear a small silk sunflower in their hair.” She writes it down.

“Or you could have a small sunflower on the lapel of the uniforms.” She writes that too.

“I don’t think most Americans know what girasole even means. I didn’t. But I love sunflowers and would love to see them more.” She writes that down too. Enzo is eating bread, listening intently.

“Okay. This I like. What else?”

“You could have someone paint a large mural of a sunflower on the ceiling of the lobby or even in here.” I motion inside the restaurant. “The towels in the rooms could have small embroidered sunflowers on them. Just something to tie it all in.”

She stops writing and says something to Enzo in Italian. He nods in agreement. I’m nervous.

She smiles. “Ava. I like your ideas.” She puts her notebook back inside the big handbag. “We change it, no?” She pours herself a glass of water and grabs a piece of bread.

Just like that? She’s going to listen to me?

“I need an assistant. I train you.” It’s a statement not a question.

Is she serious?

“I can’t be your assistant Checca. I have absolutely no background in design at all.”

“You don’t need it. I train you.” She repeats, stuffing prosciutto in her dainty mouth.

Enzo is still eating his bread as though nothing is happening. I look
at him for
help,
and he shrugs.
“Checc
a always gets what she wants
.”

She says something else to Enzo in
Italian,
and he nods again.

“What?”

“Yes, we need to teach you Italian.” She says.

Well Ava, you wanted a job. You got one. I sit silently trying to soak it all in.

We eat
angel hair pasta served with grilled fish. It’s perfect on a hot day like this. Francesca and Enzo knock back several glasses of
wine,
but I stick to water.

“Tonight,
we’re staying home
Ava.

He
rubs
my arm
,
sending chills rippling through my body. Francesca smiles and winks at me. All is well.

After saying goodbye to Francesca, we walk slowly back to
valet,
hand in hand.

“I’m so glad you sat next to me on the plane t
hat day.” Enzo’s voice is soft. He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it.

“So am
I.” That was indeed my lucky day.

In the
car,
I decide
I
should
tell him about my birthday when we get back to my place. If he finds out I let it
pass,
he’ll be angry.

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