Chapter 11
There were times when Luciana was thankful for having an assistant. Pam, her assistant of three years, was an older, short-haired woman, who handled everything from phone calls to emails to appointments. After Cleo's passing, she asked her to take a break from work to be able to recover. But now that Luciana was back at work, she realized how much she needed it. She had also told Pam to set her up with appointments as and when they arose, even if that meant going back home.
Her latest project, the upscale apartment in Chicago that she was working on, wouldn't take a long time. The owners wanted to get rid of the walls and the cupboards in the kitchen to make it seem more spacious, and also remodel the master bathroom. In her nine-year career, she had liaised with various architects and surveyors for different projects, which set her apart from many other interior designers who didn't offer architectural services. Two days ago, after Pam set up an appointment with the architects she usually coordinated with, work on the apartment had started. Luciana was due to visit the place at noon that day, so she left the bed and went for a shower.
As she stepped into the glass shower stall, memories of the last few months floated back to her mind. Right from meeting Henry to the breakup to Cleo's sickness and eventual death, nothing about that year made her happy. Henry had been impulsive and wild, and it wasn't surprising because he was a musician who spent a lot of time on the road. He'd wanted her to go out drinking with him every night, mingle with his equally wild group of friends, and come home for a round or two of mindless sex. Yes, mindless. That's how she could best describe their activities in bed. In the beginning, it had been heady and passionate, but he had no regard for her arousal and didn't understand her body. When he failed to please her in the months they'd been together, she'd suggested trying out different things. But he put her off with his response that she shouldn't need help; it should just happen.
It hadn't happened. To make matters worse, he was allergic to cats and never wanted to be anywhere around Cleo. He started to pressure her to settle down with him, even though he knew from the very start that Luciana wasn't ready for it. She didn't remember the last time she had fallen in love or had a deep, meaningful relationship, and here was a man who wanted more of her without caring about her body or emotions. Luciana had felt trapped, and it was surprising because she had always been fiercely independent and never let a man control her.
She leaned against the wall, flinching when the cold tiles touched her skin. Elijah always told her to have more tact in relationships, but she wanted to be able to speak her mind. What good was a relationship if she had to lie and pretend? That wasn't how she was. If she had to be with someone, she wanted to feel comfortable about being her true self.
But she didn't want to think about it anymore, not when the hot water was washing away the soreness she felt in her body. When she closed her eyes, Chris's gentle gaze and soothing smile appeared in her mind, and her eyes flew open.
That was...wrong.
When she had brought Cleo to the hospital, she hadn't thought it would be so hard to overcome the loss or that she'd be so afraid to go back and face an empty house. She had never stayed at Elijah's house for more than a day or two, didn't know any of his neighbors, and couldn't even remember his address from the top of her head on most occasions. But this time, everything was different, especially since she met Chris.
They had spent a lot of time together over the last few days, whether on Elijah's porch before he left for work or at his house after they returned from work. Chris had treated her to Norwegian egg coffee one evening, a recipe he learned from his mother, and as they sat in his cozy study, she had shared little details about her life that she never told anyone else. She told him about her vague memory of her parents, living with their alcoholic uncle after the fire, and eating cereal for every meal because everything else was out of reach. She told him about the time she was sent to a foster home as a seven-year-old when their uncle disappeared after losing a gambling bet and how it broke her heart to be away from Elijah. It hadn't been easy to hide her emotions as she spoke about them— her foster parents were kind and loving people, but to her, home had meant her brother, her only family.
Chris had remained silent throughout, listening to her without judgment. When she'd trailed off, she had felt embarrassed, wondering if she had said too much. She hadn't been able to meet his gaze, but when he had gently reached over to hold her hand, Luciana had felt like she could forget the world.
She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. From the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled to his ridiculous song and dance routine while mowing the lawn or the way he acted like a five-year-old on steroids while playing with the neighbor's dog, there was so much about him that she liked and hadn't been able to get out of her head. The thoughts made a tinge of guilt surface inside her. It was too soon to move on from her loss. Cleo was all she had and she wasn't ready to replace her memories with erotic thoughts filled with the promise of something new. It seemed like a good distraction but it also made her feel like a bad person for getting over her cat's death so soon.
As she stepped out of the shower, she knew what to do. She needed to return home to Madison.
Luciana remained at the site for two hours, happy that she had something to keep her occupied again. There were several instances when the client's dream interiors didn't resonate with her personal taste. This was one such project. Luciana wanted her living space to be neat and organized with most of the clutter hidden from view. But her new clients wanted to get rid of the cupboards and hang the pots and pans right above the kitchen counter. They also wanted a TV and a coffee maker in the bathroom.
It wasn't hard for her to visualize her client's needs even if they were different from her own tastes. She was a feminine girl, her preferred home décor being cozy and romantic. But not everyone had the same choices.
She remembered the time when she and Matt bought their duplex together. While Matt had wanted his apartment to be mostly black and white, Luciana had wanted hers to be pink, white and gold. It had taken her weeks to come up with the right décor for her apartment. It wasn't a new building and had been sitting around gathering dust for years because of a legal dispute between the owners. When the case was dismissed, the building was put up for sale, and not many wanted to buy it because of the work it needed. She and Matt had decided to buy it, simply because it was in a prime location and was selling at a bargain price.
The renovation hadn't been easy, though.
The day she moved in, she'd spent the whole night sneezing. It had seemed like all the dust in the whole world had been collected and stored in that apartment. The roof, walls, windows, and kitchen had needed repair, so Luciana had worked with her architects to make her designs come to life. Matt's apartment had even gone on to feature in Vogue, because of the classy black interiors. It had taken three months for the place to finally look like Luciana's dream home. There were balconies, a patio, a master suite with a walk-in closet, and a home office that looked like a million bucks. The filthy pond had been converted into a clear, sparkling swimming pool, and with regular maintenance, the yard was now a nice garden, full of blooming flowers.
Besides the coziness of the apartment, she liked that her best friend lived in the same building. It was much like living together without actually living together. They shared the pool and the lawn, played tennis in the evenings, and sat on the patio after dinner, sharing some good-natured banter.
It was a windy day in Chicago, the gusts of strong breeze blowing the leaves off the trees. As Luciana drove to the cat shelter, she realized it was Nature's way of helping the trees shed the dry leaves. Every time the wind came rolling in, the trees swayed and let the leaves fall into piles on the street, only to be swept away in the air.
This was Luciana's third day at the shelter. After visiting with Chris the first time, she had wanted to return with food, toys, and blankets, which she had done a few days later. But today, she was there for Poppy, the cat with the sad eyes that had called out to her.
There was something about loneliness that oddly spoke to her. She had seen it in her brother's eyes for years, she had felt it within herself after Cleo left, and when she gently stroked her head, she saw the same on her face. In only three days, Poppy had memorized her scent. Even before she approached her basket, she rose from her bed and came walking towards her, meowing softly. Luciana saw the limp, and it saddened her to think that she couldn't join the other cats when they ran and played.
