ELISA BELLA ROSSI seems like the life of the party, always ready for a wild night out. But beneath the surface, she's battling her own inner demons. One fateful night, she meets CHRISTOPHER NUÑEZ AGNELLO, a man with a turbulent past who has found hi...
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Today's Emilio's birthday, and I went all out for the occasion. I decorated the reception area with a big "Happy Birthday" banner and green balloons—his favorite colour. I even painted a canvas for him: his portrait standing next to his cherry-red 1966 Alfa Romeo Spider Duetto. I painted it with vibrant colours to match his personality. I couldn't think of a better gift, so I hope he likes it. It's always nerve-wracking to put my art out there; you never know how people are going to react.
I also painted a portrait of Chris working on his car. I just couldn't help myself—I was inspired. But that one's a secret I'll take to the grave. Things have been awkward enough between us since the other night. We haven't talked since, and I know he's working today because it's Monday. The last thing I need is to start a conversation with, "Hey, I was obsessing over you so I painted this portrait." Terrible idea.
Someone steps out of the shop, and it's Emilio. I jump out of my chair and shout, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
"Ohhh! Bella, you shouldn't have!" Emilio exclaims, taking in my little decorations. "You really shouldn't have! Thank you so much!"
He looks genuinely touched, but then his eyes land on the canvas propped against the reception desk, and they go wide.
"What in the world is this!" he asks, practically sprinting over to the canvas and picking it up with both hands.
"It's my birthday present to you," I say.
He squints at me. "No, stop. Stop. Stop messing with me. Elisa, did you paint that?"
I nod shyly. "Yeah, I did."
"No way, you're kidding me. I don't believe it. What!"
Emilio's eyes are practically glowing, and he looks completely stunned. I wasn't expecting such a good reaction.
"This is incredible, Elisa! Bellissimo! I can hardly believe you actually painted this!"
Then he looks up to the mezzanine and yells, "Chris, get down here! You gotta see this!"
My heart skips a beat as I realize Chris has been standing up there. I can't help but wonder how long he's been there and if I did anything stupid. Chris has this habit of just standing on the mezzanine, overlooking the garage, and I often don't even notice.
He comes down the stairs, and Emilio, still in awe, excitedly shows him the canvas I made.
Chris raises his eyebrows and nods approvingly. "Amazing," he says.
He looks at me, and I give him a small smile. He returns it, and then we both look away, the awkward vibe still hanging between us. Emilio's going on and on about how great the painting is, while Chris and I keep stealing glances at each other.
"I'm bringing this tonight and showing it to everyone! You're coming, right?" Emilio asks, pointing at me.
