“It’s done.”
I nod. “It is.”
Flexing his fingers, Giovanni stands up and stretches, giving me a good look at the frame. It’s stunning. The curved top, the intricate combination of beads and crystal clusters, the illusion of the tulle. Picturing it integrated into the back of the dress on the model, an idea forms in my brain. I pause, trying to work out the feasibility. He finished the appliqué a little earlier than expected, which means we still have a few days until Milan. But Giovanni hates being rushed, and it’s a last-minute ask. After a few moments of indecision, I decide not to say anything.
“You’re not pleased?”
Shit.
“No, I love it. The appliqué is perfect.”
His stare tightens, pinning me in place. “What is it?”
How can he even tell?I’m almost positive my expression hasn’t changed.
“It’s just, I had a small idea. But I’m not sure.” I stand up, giving my nervous energy an outlet.
“Tell me,” Giovanni commands.
“I know this is a risk,” I hedge, “but I think a headpiece would add allure.”
“What are you envisioning?”
My eyebrows lift before I can stop them. He actually wants to hear more?
“I’m thinking of a halo pearl. An iridescent studded hair net, like?—”
“Rocha. For Dior S/S ‘21.”
The corner of my mouth kicks up at how quickly he understood the reference. “Exactly. But slightly more ethereal, with the daintiest pearls we can find. I know we’d have to call in a favor from the supplier, but even with the time constraints, I think it’d be worth it.”
Giovanni blinks at me in silence.
“Or not,” I say, uncertain in the face of his passivity. “I know your preference is traditional, and I guess the halo can lean maximalist. We don’t have to explore it.”
“I’ll call Maja. I think she already has something that might work.” He pauses. “It’s a good idea.”
I tilt my head, searching his eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
His eyebrows knit together. “Makingfunof you?”
“Yeah. Are you seriously considering it, or are you being sarcastic?”
I can’t read the expression in his eyes. For a moment, I think I see a flicker of disappointment.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” He pivots on his feet. “I’ll make the call.”
I shift on my feet. “Oh. Thanks. I’m going to go and get ready, then. For tonight.”
Giovanni’s back straightens, but he doesn’t turn around. “Tonight.” He walks toward his office, and his door closes at the same time the front bell chimes.
Lucia bursts into the shop, breathing heavily. “Tessa! Hey!”
I grin. “Hey, Lucia, thanks again for inviting me tonight.”
“It’s our pleasure. Listen, I—” She cuts herself off on a gasp, dropping her purse to the ground. I track her line of sight to the tambour frame. “Oh my God. He finished?”
Her reaction seems a bit over the top, considering Giovanni’s completed hundreds of different appliqués over the course of his career, but I agree this oversized one is extra special.
