Status: Some aren't at all like they seem.

The Unforgettable

What's Going On?

“Did you ever find Tiramisu?” I ask swiveling from left to right in Carlo’s office chair while he rummages through a box of books.

He’s searching for a book to give to one of his clients about a man that suffers from depression and travels to Guatemala to learn and find a sense of purpose.

He wipes his hands slapping them together to dust them off, “I have not. . .” He sighs with a smile, “I wish you hadn’t brought it up I’m really craving it now.”

I smile still swiveling, “I’ll try looking up places.”

I pull out my phone and search Italian restaurants, “have you heard of Home Garden?”

Carlo nods, “I have been there once, it wasn’t very good. No tiramisu there.”

I scroll through Google, reading menus to find tiramisu but I’m having no luck. Olive Garden, why is Olive Garden listed, along with Fazoli’s they’re American/Italian chains not actual Italian food. . . I get to the third page of Google naming off restaurants to Carlo and he shakes his head saying either the places are good, but no tiramisu or the places are terrible and still no tiramisu.

“What about, Marigold’s Sweets?”

He slides the box he was rummaging through onto a shelf in a closet, “I haven’t heard of it.”

I go to their website and look through the menu, “ooh, they have it.”

He turns around to look at me, “they have tiramisu?!”

“Mhm,” I smile watching his face as it lights up.

“Wh- what are their hours?”

“Um,” I check. “Says they’re open 8am to 3pm Monday through Saturday, and it’s 1:45.”

He gasps, “let’s go, let’s go!” Not giving it another thought.

He’s so excited it’s so damn adorable! He spins in a circle looking for his things which makes me laugh out loud because he looks like a puppy chasing his tail.

Carlo crouches grabbing his bag and keys, “ready?”

I stand and follow him out smiling as I go, at the same moment he closes his office door, the front door bursts open shining light into the room. In walks a dark haired woman who is a little chubby, on the short side and she seems a little winded (probably from the stairs) as she adjusts the strap of her purse on her shoulder. From across the room I can feel her smoldering eyes as she gives Carlo a look I can’t really read in the low light.

“F- Fiona, what are you doing here?” Carlo stammers.

The woman pushes the door closed and silently walks towards us staring at Carlo. When she gets closer she stops walking, noticing me in the dim light standing not too far from Carlo.

She narrows her eyes at me and knits her eyebrows, “I’m here for my mother’s things,” her eyes leave me to look Carlo up and down. Her voice is hoarse, sounds tired or stressed.

“Her things, what things?” Carlo asks.

She makes a sound and rolls her eyes, “her plants, that I see you’re just letting fucking die.”

Carlo purses his lips, wipes the palms of his hands on his pants. This is the first time I’ve seen him uneasy, but why? Who is this woman?

“I told her I wasn’t very good with plants, keeping them alive. . .”

“Not the first thing you killed,” she mutters.

Carlo loudly clears his throat, the woman lifts one of the drooping plants shaking her head as she goes to the door. Carlo quickly strides over to the door opening it for her.

“Let me help you, I’ll grab the other plant.”

Fiona scoffs, “I don’t need your help.”

She disappears out of the door and down the stairs, Carlo closes the door, but leaves it cracked open. He turns around and sees the curious look on my face. He takes a breath and walks over to me, reading me.

“Who’s that woman?” I ask.

Holy shit, it’s his ex. I just know it, it must have been serious if he has her mother’s things. Take a deep breath Gianna, she looks pissed so they probably had a terrible break up. Who wouldn’t be upset after losing a relationship with this sweet guy?

He clears his throat again, “that’s uh Fiona. . . She’s the daughter of my old secretary.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you had a secretary.”

“N- Not anymore. Marilyn worked here a long while ago, unfortunately she left the office one day hasn’t returned since. It’s very odd that her daughter popped in.”

Whew! It’s not his ex, great, fantastic, amazing, no drama for me.

“Why is she so angry?”

Carlo scratches the back of his head, “I don’t know.”

The door bursts back open, Fiona goes to the desk by the front door and opens the drawers collecting things as Carlo and I awkwardly stand there. She digs through the desk, slamming drawers louder and louder as she opens the next. Finally she stops and straightens her posture.

“Where is my mom’s book Giancarlo?” she booms.

He’s startled from her outburst, “her book?”

“Yes! Her book, the book she wrote where the hell is it?”

“Just calm down Fiona, maybe it’s on one of these shelves, I’ll look in my office.”

He hurries into the office, closing the door behind him and now it’s just me and her. She looks me up and down, comes towards me and walks by to stand at the bookcase and skim through titles. I can finally look at her clearly now that she’s in the lamp light. Her hair is long, dark and dry looking, part of her shirt is tucked into the back of her jeans and the hand resting on her bag I can see has chipped dark nail polish. Fiona turns around suddenly, staring at me, making me very uncomfortable.

She walks up to me smelling faintly like cigarettes and stands close, leans in and starts talking low and husky.

“You must not be a client, you aint leave yet. . . So who are you?”

I stammer, “I’m uh. I’m a friend of Carlo’s.”

“Oh yeah?” she asks rhetorically.

She nods, “what kind of friend?”

I shrug not speaking and she nods, “oh that kind of friend.” She chuckles, “don’t believe everything he says. He’s a real god damn charmer. He will fuck your brain up.”

What the?

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Carlo opens the door joining us again with a book in his hand, we share a look and in a flash Fiona’s squatting at the other plant rising and heading to the desk piling the things she collected on top of the dirt of the plant.

Fiona heads to the door and Carlo speaks, “here’s your book.” He strides over to her, passing it and she snatches it from him placing it amongst the papers on the plant and yanks the door open.

She storms out and Carlo stands in the doorway, “nice to see you again.”

“Right,” she disappears outside.

I hear her yelling at Carlo but I can’t really make out much besides the cursing, Carlo speaks in a quiet tone and I see him get pushed back like she shoved him. I take a step closer and he closes the door sighing. I walk up to him and place a hand on his shoulder, he jolts which makes me pull back startled by his reaction. He spins around with a distressed expression, I take another step back to give him space.

“I’m sorry about that. . .”

“Did she hit you?” I ask concerned.

He straightens his posture and fixes his clothes, “just a shove, nothing serious.”

I just look at him worriedly, I’m worried about the shove, Carlo’s stressful demeanor, and especially that woman’s words. Carlo lets out a breath, runs a hand through his hair and tries to recuperate.

“Did she speak to you?”

He reminds me of me when I was freaking out about seeing Janine at the restaurant, this worries me too. Why is he freaking out? I decide not to mention her ‘warning.’

“No.”

He narrows his eyes and his head tilts slightly, “and you’re sure about that?” he takes steps closer to me.

I grow uncomfortable, “she asked who I was-”

“And you said?” he interrupts.

He’s speaking in a harsh tone very close to me now and the dim lighting and dark shadows don’t help, it’s unsettling.

“I said I was a friend,” I take a step back.

He takes a breath, looks at the floor shaking his head then looks at me again, he looks calmer.

“I’m sorry Gianna, I don’t know why I have let her visit stir me up so. It’s just. . . It’s just that, I wasn’t completely honest with you when you asked me who she was.”

My heart tightens and he continues, “she’s not only the daughter of my old secretary, but we were a couple a long while ago.”

I blow out a breath, “why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn't want you to feel down for any reason, things become strange when exes or husbands come around.”

I sigh feeling bad anyway because of that comment.

He reaches out a hand to me then falters deciding to tap his leg instead. “I understand if you want try for tiramisu another time.”

It’s probably a good idea to give him time to calm down and I need to think.

I clear my throat, “yeah, let’s try for another day.”

He nods, his features are soft and he looks sad, I tuck some hair behind my ear.

Carlo this time takes my hand, “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, she shouldn’t come around again she’s got all her things.”

I nod again and he sighs, walks close to me and pulls me into a hug, his hug’s always thaw me out, I relax in his arms.

His lips go to my ear, “Gianna, I love you don’t forget that,” his voice is soft but serious.

I look in his eyes, I see sincerity in them and nod, “how could I?”

He smiles and kisses me, one hand goes into my hair and the other slides to my side. Our foreheads touch and connect, so do our tongues. His hands slide to my back holding me close against him and my mouth wants more just as he pulls away.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asks.

I nod with a smile, make sure I have my things and with an arm around my waist he leads me to the front door. His hand on the door knob we share another kiss and I walk out into the sunlight feeling unsure about everything.
♠ ♠ ♠
Really, what is going on here?