Page 82 of Say It Isn't So

I chuckled. “We’re not too good with rules, are we?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve always been a rule breaker,” she said through a yawn.

I felt her breathing slow down and knew that she had drifted to sleep.

As tired as I was, I couldn’t fall asleep yet. So much had happened in such a short period, and I was busy thinking back on all of it. And how it’d all play out in the light of a new day.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Bianca

Okay, so patiencewasn’t one of my virtues.

Watching water boil? No way.

Expecting a call? Ugh.

Waiting for eight o’clock? Torture.

What was happening at eight, you ask? Well, remember how Knox and I had finally had our first kiss when I’d shared his bed (don’t be dirty) and he’d told me he wanted to take me out? That. That was what was happening at eight. Finally!

But that was hours off and I had to finish working. Currently, I was at a show—that felt never-ending, but that wasn’t the point—and this was one that Knox didn’t join me for because his blog wasn’t invited. So I was sitting impatiently all by my lonesome.

Don’t get me wrong, nothing made me happier than attending the shows, and Ginevra Salvatore’s was superb—her collection eye-catching and scintillating—but that didn’t change the fact that I’d had my eye on the venue’s exit since I got here.

Here was the way my brain worked: the sooner I got out of here, the sooner I could see Knox and kiss him again. Good way of thinking, huh? I thought so.

Anyway, Ginevra finally came out and began waving at the audience, smiling as the applause kept coming, as it should have.

When she’d turned and left the runway, the audience began their mass exodus and I was right there with them, placing my purse on my shoulder and hightailing it to that exit. Until—“Bianca Morelli?”

What if I pretended I hadn’t heard my name and I just kept on walking? I was so close to the exit, to Knox, to date night.

But that seemed cruel, right, to ignore someone like that?

Ugh, I cursed my penchant for being a good person.

Plastering a smile on to greet whoever it was, I turned and came face to face with Ginevra herself. I raised a brow and answered, “Ginevra, how are you?”

I probably should have mentioned this, but Ginevra was another family friend. She had actually worked atBellissimafor a very short stint when Mom had first opened the magazine. Then she’d leftBellissimaand started pursuing her passion for design, but she had always kept in touch when she was in New York. For a while, she and Maria had even taken Italian lessons together. Ginevra was several years older than Maria, but that never mattered much to her—my sister had always been like an old soul. Then one day, she announced she was moving out here to Italy to open a studio.

“I’m excellent, darling. I was hoping to catch you after the show,” she said, and it became obvious that living here brought out her thick accent.

“Oh, what for?”

She crossed one arm over the other, placing a hand on her other arm. “My team is doing a big press campaign at my flagship store. They invited mostly influencers to come and create content for their socials, but I would love it if you could pop in, too. It might give you more to cover in the advertorial about my brand, you experiencing it first-hand, trying on my designs.”

She wanted me to try on her designs? Me? I only worked in advertising. I got asked to do a lot of interesting things, but this was by far the coolest. And it would be such a great opportunity to dip my toe into the retail and flagship side of the business.

I raked my teeth over my bottom lip. It wasn’t like I didn’t have the time. “Are you sure?” I asked, unsure why I was pressing my luck.

My mind practically screamed at me for asking that question.She invited you, what more do you want?What if she went back on it now and changed her mind?

Thankfully, she didn’t, instead nodding. “Absolutely. You didn’t have other plans, did you? Because it’s only after the show for a couple of hours.”

I shook my head. “Nope. No plans. Thank you, thank you so much, Ginevra! This means the world to me. I mean, I can’t believe you invited me.”

Ginevra leaned over and placed a hand on my shoulder lightly. “Bianca, you know I love you and your family.” Then she backed up and chuckled. “Although, this is somewhat selfish because I want my paid advertorial in your publication to outshine every other designers’.”

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