My lungs are burning and I’m probably visibly frazzled, but I do my best to hide that from Louisa. “I need to find the fabric I can use for my collection. For a minute I was thinking of printing out my own pattern when I got back to Manhattan, but now I feel like I should just go with something that’s premade.”
“And you wouldn’t rather come back in the morning?” she asks. She looks down at her watch and then back at me with slight concern.
“I’ll be working at the internship every day until we leave, and I need to start tonight. It turns out I’m much further behind than I thought.”
I can tell she knows that something’s up, but she doesn’t push me for more answers. “Okay, then,” she says. “What do you have in mind?” For a split second I think of asking her to cut me the blue silk, the same silk that she said matched me, but something holds me back. It’s too simple. Too quiet. I can’t be quiet if I want to win.
“I’m feeling like a bold print might help me stand out.”
Louisa pauses. “Really?”
I nod and she hesitates for only a moment. “Whatever you say. Try the back left corner. Some of my favorites are there.” With no time to waste, I take off in that direction, homing in on the fabrics and scanning the piled-up bolts for something that speaks to me.
Fifteen minutes later I’ve settled on a blue, red and yellow graphic silk print. It looks rich and it reminds me of a stained-glass window I saw at Villa San Michele. It might not be the fabric I envisioned using, but maybe I need to step out of my comfort zone. I have Louisa cut fifteen yards and try not to visibly wince when I realize that I’ve almost used up the entirety of my fabric budget. It’s a massive risk, but if I’m going to win big, I need to bet big.
Back at the apartment I’m once again on my way to the workroom when Matt spots me walking past his door. He’s on a conference call on his computer, but he gestures me to come inside anyway, and I hesitantly step in with my fabric in hand. Someone on the call is talking about scheduling issues as Matt turns off his camera and mutes his microphone. I sit down on the bed, and he turns to me with a deep breath. “How are you?” he asks.
I’m about to answer when the other participants on the call catch our attention.
“Matt? Matt, did we lose you?” someone asks.
Matt swivels his chair back around to face the desk. He unmutes but leaves his camera off. “No, I’m still here. Sorry.”
I glance down at my phone and it’s already close to nine. My knee starts to bounce with anxiousness to get going on my piece.
“It’s looking like this season’s filming is going to last five or six months. You’ll be in town by September, right?”
I glance up at the back of Matt’s head and he doesn’t even pause before responding. “Yeah, I’ll be there by the start date for sure. My real estate agent has been sending virtual tours of apartments in Studio City. I’ll most likely sign a lease in the next couple of weeks.”
My heart plummets a little even though it shouldn’t. He told me he was moving to LA. It wasn’t a secret. But prior knowledge or not, it’s still jarring to hear.
“Bill’s agent is pushing back about his contract again. I think he still hasn’t realized that his client is only supporting.”
“That guy’s been a pain from the beginning,” Matt says. “Bill’s character is good, but it isn’t vital.”
“Do me a favor and just shoot his ass out into space through a garbage shaft,” another voice from the computer says. “Then we won’t have to deal with his crap anymore.”
“Good note,” Matt jokes. “I’ll see what I can do.” He looks at me over his shoulder and must see that I’m jittery. Turning back around, he goes on, “Hey, listen, I need to go. Let’s touch base again tomorrow, okay?”
“Sounds good,” the voices answer. Matt says goodbye and closes his computer before swiveling around to face me. “Hey,” he says with a tired smile.
“Hi,” I answer as brightly as possible, hoping to disguise the fact that I’m trying to run out of here as fast as humanly possible.
“Seems strange to be back in Rome, doesn’t it?”
“It does, but we couldn’t stay in Capri forever. I would have been banned from the relaxation lounge after a couple of days, so it’s better we left on a high note.” Matt chuckles and I pause. “Your call sounded exciting. Everyone’s gearing up for the next season, then?”
“Yeah, we’re starting to. There’s still time, though. I have another month or two before I officially need to head over.” I nod my head, not knowing what to say. Not knowing what he expects me to say.
A moment passes and I hop up from the bed. “Speaking of work, I better get to it. Holly and Marco made a ton of progress while we were gone and I need to catch up.”
Matt stands as well, stepping closer to me until we’re only a couple of feet apart. “Well, your sketches are amazing, and your fabric is going to blow the judges away. Yes, I’m biased, but it’s also my honest opinion.”
The bag I’m holding suddenly feels like a million pounds. “About the fabric... I decided not to print out my own, after all. I went with something ready to go. It’ll be easier and more time efficient.”
“Are you serious?” Matt asks, looking down at the bag. “But what about all the pictures you took? You were so excited about your idea.”
“I know,” I tell him, “but things changed and now I need to present something to Lorenzo on Thursday if I want to get his vote. Plus, what if I printed out the fabric back home and it didn’t turn out how I imagined it? Then I would have wasted my opportunity to buy my material in Rome. At least this way, I know what I’m working with, and I can start right away without putting things off.”
