Page 52 of (UN)Bounded

“Forever.”

Chapter 19

Isabella Bianchi

Ithought it would be weird to be back at uni after how things went down in Fuoco, but Giacomo turned out to be a decent guy. The first thing he did when he saw me at school was apologize.

“Hey, Isa. I wanted to say that I’m not usually the way I behaved in Fuoco. It must have been the alcohol talking. I didn’t realize you were with someone, but it shouldn’t matter. You were clear you didn’t want to dance with me, and I kept pressing like an idiot. I just thought we could have something, you know? I guess I should have seen it earlier. You really tried to say no to a second date, but I just thought I needed to press harder. You’re this bright, smart, gorgeous girl who’s taking summer school on her vacation, and I really like you. But I understand you’re taken, so I’ll back off now. Friends?” Giacomo extends his arm for a handshake, and I genuinely accept it.

“Thank you so much for clearing the air. I appreciate you as a friend and think you have great talent,” I tell him honestly, and he smiles.

“Last week, I had time to talk with a few acquaintances and asked around for up-and-coming artists. There are quite a few interested in learning about your idea for a gallery in South America.” I beam at his words.

This is so exciting.

“Thank you so much, Giacomo. Maybe we could do a meet-up tomorrow? I can find a place after school today,” I tell him, already thinking about texting Gabo for help.

“Sure, do you need help with that?”

“No, I got it covered. Thank you, though.”

Class goes by in a blur—we have a new instructor this week, and we’re working on sculptures. This is definitely not my forte; I’ve been struggling all afternoon trying to create a flower pot. It looks like a cup of french fries. Checking out the time, I realize there are only five minutes left in class anyway, so I start packing my stuff and head toward the parking lot.

Aldo and Rocco are outside the building, and I nod as I pass them. They follow me with a good distance between us, and if they didn’t have such burly faces, they could blend in as students.

“Miss Bianchi, hi,” Professor López greets me from the other side of the pathway.

“Hello, Professor López. I thought you had gone back to Geneva already,” I say as I walk toward him.

“I’m leaving tonight. I had a few things to take care of while here in Bologna.”

I nod in understanding. I’m sure he has contacts here at the Museum of Modern Art.

“Any chance you could join me and my boyfriend for dinner? I spoke so much about you; he’s curious to meet a fellow Chilean,” I say with a chuckle.

“I’d love to, but I already got the train ticket; I leave in an hour. Maybe next time, we can plan in advance. I’d love to have dinner with you and your boyfriend. I’m sure he’s as interesting as you are. Anyway, it was a good thing I saw you before leaving. I'm hosting a meet-and-greet at the museum where I work next month, and I think it’d be the perfect opportunity for you to mingle with other young artists.”

“This is amazing. Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Absolutely, here’s my card so we can keep in touch. Have a good evening, Miss Bianchi.” He waves, and I wave back.

I look at the guys sitting on a bench. They look so funny trying to blend in with the students walking around campus. I think they would be more successful in their jobs if they were wearing linen pants or even shorts, not expensive black suits.

Once I get to the penthouse, I check the fridge, and even though there’s enough food to feed a small army, I want to cook something special for Gabo.

“Hey, guys, I’m going to the small market at the end of the street,” I tell Aldo and Rocco, and Rocco gets up to go with me.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for, Miss Bianchi?” Rocco makes small talk as we get on the elevator.

“Well, dinner is already in the fridge, but I was thinking about a nice dessert. We ate so well at the yacht this past week. I want to keep it going,” I answer him as I feel the blush rise on my cheeks, and he chuckles.

“I hope you don’t think I’m too forward, Miss Bianchi, but you are good for Mr. Godoy.” Rocco surprises me with his words, and I look at him, curious to know more. “Yes, ever since you moved in, he’s been different. He seems like he has found something he was missing.”

“Like what?” I ask him, wanting to know everything.

Rocco rubs his face in frustration. “I shouldn’t have said anything; I’m terrible with words.”

I chuckle. “No, no. You started this. Now you have to tell me.” I press further, and he releases a frustrated breath but continues talking.

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