I lift the last box and bring it in the backshop, wiping off the sweat from my face.
"That was the last one, finally!" I mutter. The storeroom isn't that big, but it is full of fresh flowers, beautiful pots and all the equipment needed for the job. My favourite spot is a table that stands against a wall, on which lies an unfinished garland. "Alexey, have you finished?" Nina asks through the door that connects the rear of the shop and the counter.
"Yes, I'm coming!" I reply as I leave the room.
The flower shop is as colourful as always, the light floods in from the open door and windows. Most of the flowers are behind the counter, where we can show them to the customers and make sure they don't get damaged. Some others instead, like roses, tulips or orchids, are on the other side of the desk, where anyone can pick them up and choose the one they prefer. Beside flowers, there are several other products placed ordinately on two shelves, useful to those who want to try and grow flowers by themselves. Between the shelves and the vases full of flowers, the space for people to enter and wander around isn't much, but that's not too much of an issue
"Antonio, the owner of the restaurant in the corner, asked a floreal composition for a wedding which will take place next month," Nina says as she hands me a paper. I take a quick look at it and see the picture of a complex composition, most likely the one I have to realise for the wedding.
"Okay, I'll deal with this later, now I'm heading out," I promise her.
After all the boxes I lifted today, no one can deny me a quick stop by the café!
Almost as she reads my mind, she demands: "you're going to the café, aren't you? Bring me back a donut!". More than a request, it sounded like an order. She was still capable of being scary, although she became quieter and gentler since the incident.
The café is on the other side of the street, one or two minutes away from the shop. It is never too crowded nor empty, and the coffee is good. I walk in, and on my way to the counter, I greet some people I meet quite often when I walk around the neighbourhood.
"Morning Alex! The usual?" Asks me the barman as soon as he sees me.
"Yes, please," I answer after sitting down on a footstool. The barman is a tall and wide man in his late fifties, much more quiet and calm that it could seem from outside. I usually spend some time talking to him when I come by his café, he's a man of good company who knows how to keep a secret, when he has to.
"How are things on your side?" I demand him when he gives me a cup of hot dark coffee.
"Mah, nothing different from usual. Like every year, income lowers by the end of the summer, but I still get enough to live a happy life and pay my son's university." We spend a couple of minutes silent, then he adds: "no, wait, today something unusual happened: a couple of black dresses men walked in and began to question me in a language I had never heard before, I think it was Russian maybe." When he says 'Russian' I almost choke on my coffee.
"Russian you said? When did this happen?" I inquire, hardly managing to hide my agitation.
He looks at me with an interrogative expression, clearly not expecting that much curiosity from me.
"Not so much ago, they should be still sitting in that corner down there..." He gestures towards a table in the right corner of the café, where two men who fitted his description were sipping something.
I hand the barman a couple of euros and stand up, without even finishing my cup of coffee. I take a better look at the two men: they both wear a black suit, just like the barman said, and they both aren't Italian. One has dark brown hair and a scar on his right eye, the other one has blonde hair but is turned around, so I can't see his face. Even though it is the end of summer, they both have long sleeves and pants. To sum up, they're completely out of place. Since their table is far from the entrance, I can't get to hear anything they're saying, and I leave the café disappointed. It was too early, how could they find us already? Think clearly, we didn't do anything they could use to find us, they have to be here for another reason...
Before I could realise it, I find myself with the phone in my hands. Who could I talk about it to, though? There's no way I could tell this to Nina, that could lead to her getting her memories back, and I only have another number in the list: Theo's number. Theo already helped us a lot by finding us a place to hide here in Italy, he's even the one who gave Nina the flower shop; I don't feel like bothering him again, but I have no other choice. I send him a quick text, then put the phone away and relax a bit.
"10 in the morning and I already feel like going to sleep... Maybe I should have finished that coffee," I sigh on my way to the shop. However, when I'm just a few steps away from it, I freeze in fear, realising I forgot something of vital importance: Nina asked me for a donut. I rush all the way back to the café, not willing to withstand her fury in seeing me without her sweet snack.
"Had a change of heart?" The barman asks me jokingly.
"I forgot to buy a donut for Nina, she loves them," I answer, panting. The barman chuckles a little, then hands me a small bag with a warm donut inside; now I can get back to the flower shop without fearing for my safety.
Walking in the shop I find Nina even quieter than usual. Around the shop, there's a vague scent of smoke, meaning that someone entered the shop without caring for my flowers...
"Thank you very much!" She thanks me as I hand her the bag with the donut. Her eyes light up as she sees the warm treat, her expression makes me forget my worries.
"You're welcome, enjoy!" I invite her, melting in memories as she takes the first bite.
She doesn't remember a single thing about her last year, but I do. I lost count of how many times I've seen her eat a donut with such a satisfied look, her expression always managed to make me fall in love with her more than the last time. Even the first time we met, there wasn't a single thing I didn't like in her: her grey eyes took a hold of my sight instantly, her face one of the most beautiful I'd ever seen, framed by her beautiful blonde hair, her fair skin looked soft... and she was missing some rubles to buy a donut. I bought her one, we sat togheter and we began to talk about everything that came to our minds. By sunset, we had each other's number and a date planned for the next week. It was the first time I was looking forward for something that wasn't related to the mafia. Most probably I won't get that love back, but this life with Nina is more than enough.
I glance at her once again: from her satisfied face, I can tell she is enjoying the donut I brought her, but I can swear as well that she looks worried for something. The urge of asking her what's wrong is strong, but I decide to remain silent. Back to the time she was my girlfriend, she loved to be an independent person; even if she has amnesia now, I'm sure that she doesn't like to have someone who questions her about everything she does or goes through, above all if that someone is a person who claims to be an important friend of hers she doesn't remember anything about. Yes, there's no need to rush things: I'll discover what happened when I will have to.