“I do, Gabi. There’s no reason why we have to stop talking to each other.”
Wasn’t there
? They weren’t going to be together. They both knew it. It hadn’t even been on the table as an option. And yet hearing his voice today was like having a lifeline, something to keep her going when she got overwhelmed with the responsibilities in front of her. She didn’t want to let her father down, or anyone else for that matter.
“Then I’ll let you know how it goes. Good or bad.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I believe in you.”
Oh, great. Another person she didn’t want to disappoint.
“Thank you, Will. Go to your meeting. I’m fine.”
“Take care, Gabi.”
“You, too.”
She hung up the phone and sat back in her chair. Was she torturing herself by talking to Will? Could they possibly be just friends?
* * *
Two days later she was in Milan, as nervous as she’d ever been, waiting to see Giacomo Corsetti. Giacomo had been her father’s client for a decade and a half. The Corsetti brand was more high street fashion than couture, but it prided itself on exceptional quality. Gabi had dressed to impress: a splendidly cut pantsuit in navy and off-white, matching shoes and a designer bag that held several reports and an iPad so she could bring up data in real time if she needed. She’d put up her hair—more businesslike—and been subtle with her makeup. Overall she was going for a stylish but competent look.
If only her insides were as confident as the outside looked.
“Gabriella!” A jovial voice echoed across the marble floor and she turned to see Giacomo approaching. He wasn’t overly tall, and his mustache was grayer than when she’d last seen him. “Buongiorno, Gabriella. How good it is to see you.” He came forward and kissed both cheeks, making her realize that he was, indeed, a good inch or two shorter than she was. Perhaps the heels were a mistake.
“It’s good to see you, too, Giacomo.” She smiled at him.
“Last time I saw you, you were starting university. You’ve grown up a lot.”
She had to dispel the image of her as a child, so she held her smile and replied, “Yes, I have. I’ve been working with the company for several years now.”
“Learning at the elbow of the master?”
“Just as you say. It made perfect sense for me to step in as Papa is recovering.”
Giacomo gestured toward the hall, and they began walking, Gabi’s heels clicking on the cool marble. “How is your father? Such a sad thing, the cancer.”
“He’s doing well. He’s home from surgery and starts chemo in a few weeks. The prognosis is encouraging.” She looked over at Giacomo and added, “He looks far better now than he did before the operation, in fact.”
“I’m very glad to hear it.”
He led her into a large office in a modern design. For all his old-school attitudes, Giacomo knew how to keep up with what was fashionable. He went to sit behind a large desk, but Gabi halted and swept out a hand. “I have some figures to show you. Why don’t we sit at your table where we can spread them out?”
If he sat behind his desk and she in front of it, she’d feel like a naughty student in the principal’s office.
“Of course, of course.”
Once they were seated she proceeded to take out her spreadsheets and make her case. Giacomo listened politely, but when she was finished, he tapped his fingers on the table.
“You see, Gabriella, I can get product much cheaper elsewhere.”
“Ah, but it’s not Baresi quality. Corsetti has always prided itself on its quality. What is it you say? Couture quality at high street prices?”
“The market is changing.”
She hesitated for a moment, then met his gaze. “Yes, it is shifting, which is why I outlined some options for a new contract, to give you some flexibility. We want to work with you, Giacomo. What’s good for Corsetti is good for Baresi.”