14 | Misunderstandings
Leonardo:
I've been working on my sketch of Arià for a while now and it's almost ready to be painted. After meeting with Mr. Woods, it's been a week or so since I've seen her or Daniel. No calls, no texts. Absolutely nothing.
I've been spending my time working on my portrait of Arià and helping out at mom's bakery, nothing special. There have been no leads to my painting at all and Diego hasn't done anything out of the ordinary since he decided to show up at my place.
It's currently five in the morning and I'm in the kitchen trying to think of something to make for breakfast. I woke up half an hour ago feeling a bit lazy so all I did was get up to brush my teeth and make my way in here when my stomach grumbled.
A simple egg sandwich would be enough to fill me until midday.
As lazy as I felt, I still have an agenda to follow.
I finished eating the egg sandwich in less than five minutes and moved to start cleaning the kitchen. After that was finished, I took a shower and got dressed, ready to tackle the day. I wore gray sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt with sneakers.
I packed up my sketchpad and my miniature journal in my satchel, grabbed my car keys and went through the door. The plan is to stop by Ma's bakery first then check in with Mr. Woods. Finishing the sketch would probably be the last thing for me to do today if I gain the confidence to actually text Arià.
She makes me so nervous.
I began driving only to be caught up in traffic that would make my trip longer than necessary. Humming the melody of Taylor Swift's 'You Belong With Me' distracted me from the traffic I was in and in no time, I was at the bakery.
I walked in with the journal containing the recipes in my hand looking around for my mother.
"Mio figlio! You have the new additions for our menu?"
There she is.
"Of course, Ma."
After placing a big kiss on my cheek, she took the journal from my hand and began reading through the different things I had jotted down.
Cassatelle with Ricotta, Sfogliatella, Babà al Rum, Pistachio Castagnole and Baklava were some of many items I had not only written down, but tried baking myself.
Highly recommend Baklava by the way.
After skimming through the list, my mother had this large smile stretched across her face. Her eyes glimmered as if there were diamonds in them as she turned to me.
"Mio figlio è un genio. Genio assoluto. Questo è perfetto!"
I couldn't help but beam under the praise. Finally, something was going right for me.
After a lot more compliments and declarations about how all her friends would be jealous, I bid my goodbyes and left. Next on my list was to check in with Mr. Woods so that would be where I'm heading next.
–
Ms. Mulberry welcomed me warmly and told me to have a seat while she went to go inform Mr. Woods of my presence which leads me to where I am right now, seated in a burgundy chair waiting for Mr. Woods' secretary to reappear.
In the meantime, I mentally checked off what I had done already. Drop off the recipes? Check. Meeting with Mr. Woods? In progress right now.
Soon enough, his secretary came back and Mr. Woods was right behind her with one more person I couldn't see. That was, until Mr. Woods scooched over a little and it was the person who's been occupying my mind for the past days.
Arià.
As soon as she met my eyes, she looked away fast. She whispered something to her father, flashed a smile at Ms. Mulberry and gave me one last look before leaving. I could feel the hurt boiling in me, ready to overflow but I kept my composure.
At first, I assumed she was just busy as to why there was no form of communication between her and I but now it seemed as though it was on purpose. She looked at me like I gave her false hope. Like I lied and did the worst imaginable thing.
What did I do?
I tried to erase the feeling of hopelessness as I greeted Mr. Woods and thanked Ms. Mulberry but it didn't go away. Even when we began walking up to his office. Even when he was obviously speaking, I heard nothing. Even when we were seated and he was waving his hands trying to get my attention.
Shit.
"I'm fine Sir. I'm just tired I guess." I said with a laugh but I don't think he found it very funny.
"You know, as professional as I am with you, feel free to express how you feel. Mr. Woods' office is a judgment free zone." He said with a small smile that reminded me of my mother in a way. Always worried. I assured him that I was fine and it was probably because I'm tired. I'm not. I'm wide awake and my mind is going haywire trying to figure out why I'm getting silent treatment.
He went on to say that my case is in an awkward position at the moment and whether I think Diego is a suspect or not, there's no solid proof of him being connected to my painting being missing.
'Emotions can only go so far in the life of law Leonardo. Unless there's solid proof or at least a recording that puts him in an incriminating light, there's nothing I can do.'
If I felt awful before, I definitely feel worse now. I thanked Mr Woods nonetheless and left. Once I got in my car, I checked the time and it was currently forty-five minutes past five.
After the reaction I got today, I doubted if I should text Arià and knowing how protective her brother is, whatever I've done has probably reached his ears already.
I'm screwed at the moment. I began driving back home and decided to make something simple for dinner. I can only stomach so much in one day.
I got home and immediately put on some jazz music before doing anything else. I put my sketchpad on the couch and went to change into something more comfortable. After that was done, I decided I would text Arià still and then make dinner. Knowing how anxious I get, cooking would keep me occupied instead of checking my phone every second for a response.
Leo:
Hey.
We haven't spoken in a while but you looked spooked today.
Text me if you'd like to talk :)
You don't have to of course.
I threw my phone somewhere and began prepping for dinner. I washed my hands, got my pots and took out my ingredients. Tonight's dinner would be Ribollita, a Tuscan bread soup made with bread and vegetables.
I got some olive oil, onions, carrots, garlic that would be minced later on, a celery stalk, peeled tomatoes, thyme and rosemary sprig, ¼ cup grated parmesan, whole grain bread and began to work my magic in the kitchen.
After fifty minutes, call it an hour or so, dinner was done and I shared out a portion for myself and went to sit down until a ping came from my phone. I set the bowl with the soup down and went to search for my phone.
Not only was I left on read by Arià but I received a new message.
Daniel (scary older brother):
I don't know what happened between you and my sister but I expect an explanation.
Come over tomorrow at 1.