Page 27 of Winter With You

Luca took a step closer to the bottom of the metal stairs and held his arms out. ‘So, Phoebe, just sit on the bottom step there and jump. I’ll catch you.’

‘I don’t know,’ Phoebe said, teeth chattering with cold or nervousness or possibly both. ‘What if I slip and⁠—’

‘You’re not going to hurt yourself,’ Luca reassured.

‘It’s OK, Phoebe,’ Gabriella said. ‘If he doesn’t catch you, I will.’

‘I was going to say… what if I slip and the dress tears?’

‘OK,’ Luca said, grabbing the metalwork with one hand and hanging from it like a much finer dressed version of a scaffolder or, maybe, Tarzan. He reached for Phoebe. ‘The dress is just a dress at the end of the day. You are more important. Come to me. I got you.’

All Gabriella could do was watch as Phoebe listened, did as instructed and somehow, through some kind of limb logistics that should not have been able to work, clung to Luca’s free arm allowing them both to drop safely down to the ground.

‘OK?’ Luca asked Phoebe. ‘In one piece?’

Gabriella watched Phoebe looking around at every aspect of the skirt of the dress. This was a behaviour brought on by Monica Felix’s life attitude. Carelessness was a cardinal sin in her opinion.

‘I think everything is good,’ Phoebe told him, happily.

‘Great,’ Luca answered. ‘Everything is great then. So, let’s go.’

‘And where exactly are we going?’ Gabriella asked.

‘To see a friend of mine.’

‘That tells me nothing.’

‘To arrange some alternative styling.’

‘Alternative? What does that mean?’

He smiled, walking backwards and heading to the exit of the alley. ‘Here’s the really fun answer to that,’ he whispered, rather darkly. ‘I have no idea!’

Gabriella frowned as he turned around and headed off. Who was this guy? Then Phoebe took hold of her arm.

‘He’s funny, isn’t he?’ Phoebe smiled. ‘I like him.’

18

ERROL’S EMPORIUM, MANHATTAN

If ‘avant-garde’ combined with ‘dangerous liaison’ had a fragrance, the interior of Errol’s Emporium was it. In Luca’s opinion anyway. Always, when he stepped into this space filled with rails and racks of everything from retro disco garments to something Jacob Elordi in Wuthering Heights could have worn, he was hit with both nostalgia and new beginnings. As always, it was busy, clientele rummaging through the lines like it was T J Maxx.

‘This place is cool,’ Phoebe said, immediately stepping over towards a rail of dresses.

‘This place is weird,’ Gabriella said, eyes darting about the room like perhaps she was looking for an escape route from here too.

‘We aren’t going to be shopping in this part,’ Luca told her, scanning the space for his friend, the owner.

‘Is that so?’ boomed a voice from behind him. ‘And what part do y’all think y’all gonna be shopping in?’

Luca turned around and grinned at the six-foot-three black man who had apparently buzzed his hair and dyed what was left orange since the last time he’d seen him. ‘Errol, my man,’ he greeted, gathering him into a back-slapping hug. ‘How you doing?’ He let him go, surveyed the denim dungarees over the kind of tie-dye T-shirt that he felt should be outlawed.

‘I’m alive! Not that you would know. It’s been months, Marcello.’

‘Manning,’ Luca corrected, heat gathering as he side-eyed Gabriella to see if she had heard. Unclear.

‘And now you need a favour?’ Errol powered on, toying with the headphones snug around his neck.