Tide Changer

Thirty-two

The following day, after I spent hours running errands and shipping some jewelry pieces to customers, it was time to get ready for the Colemans' party.

For the first time, Mom didn't tell me what I should wear. I'd started catching glimpses of a different person — one I liked — and it was hard not to be hopeful. I didn't want to go overseas for who knows how long leaving our relationship in shambles.

After perusing my closet, I settled on a white dress I paired with the golden sandals I wore to Cohen's party. I gathered my hair in a sleek bun to showcase the same heart earrings I wore to my graduation and slipped the matching heart necklace together with the one Rys gave me around my neck.

The engagement ring frowned at me from the nightstand. I tossed it in my white clutch to return it to Brock, and just as I reached for my phone, it buzzed, startling me.

Hoping that the unknown number might be Rys's, I accepted the call.

"Hello?"

"Lyra?" a warm, slightly accented voice said.

I pushed the shadow of disappointment aside and allowed curiosity to take over. "Paolo. How are you?"

"Wonderful. How are you doing? Are you already in Milano?"

"That'd be fast." I sat on the bed so I wouldn't need to stand in high-heeled shoes if the conversation ran long. "I bought the ticket, but I'm not going to fly there until the second half of August. The school hasn't answered yet, anyway."

"See? That's what I call the perfect timing."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone I know is opening a jewelry boutique in Milano. They've interviewed a few people, but they need someone who knows about jewelry and speaks English. Most sales in that area come from tourists, so no language barrier would be extremely helpful. It's only part-time to start, but if you're studying, it might work. I'll text you Ginevra's email. The store is hers. I already told her about you. Please, tell me you're still looking for a job."

I pinched my lips to stop myself from letting out an embarrassing, enthusiastic squeal. "Yes. Yes, I am."

"Perfetto. I've got to run now. Don't forget to tell me how the interview went, and good luck."

"Thank you, Paolo."

"You're welcome."

As soon as we hung up, a text from him appeared on the screen. I immediately emailed his acquaintance and rushed downstairs.

My heart drummed a happy rhythm at seeing Dad talking to Mom in the living room. I must've been on the phone when he arrived.

"Hi," I said from the doorway.

He opened his arms, giving me a tired smile. "Sweetheart. How's everything going? What did I miss?"

As I stepped into his affectionate embrace, Mom expelled a long sigh. "A lot. But we're going to miss the Colemans' party if I tell you everything right now."

Dad squeezed me once and kissed my forehead. "Give me a few minutes to change."

"Take your time," Mom said.

I failed to stop my brows from climbing to my hairline. "Mom?" I said once Dad was out of sight. "You, telling someone to take their time? What's wrong with you?"

She brushed invisible lint off her Chanel suit. "He drove for seven hours. The least we can do is let him get dressed calmly. We're not the hosts. Patricia and Roger can wait."

Just as Dad came downstairs and I was about to ask him about the fire, someone rang our doorbell. Mom went to open the door and returned with Brock.

I hadn't seen him in days, not that I was eager to have the one who cheated on me in my proximity. Brock shook my father's hand and leaned in to kiss me, but I sidestepped him and headed for the front door without saying a word.