by Tia Wylder
“Yeah,” Barnes said. He narrowed his eyes and sat down in a recliner, kicking his feet up. “I’m exhausted. Want to go to bed?”
I shook my head.
“You're so quiet tonight,” Barnes said. “What’s the matter?”
I sighed. “I got another one of those weird phone calls,” I said.
“What did they say?”
“Same thing as before. That unless I came home immediately, I’d be sorry.”
“Jesus,” Barnes said. He shook his head. “Your father is something else. What does he do again?”
“It sounds stupid, but I don’t know exactly,” I said. “I never questioned it. No one did – not even my mother, as long as the money was coming in.”
“Is your father involved with organized crime?”
“Of course not,” I said hotly. “Don’t you think I’d know?”
Barnes didn’t reply, and the silence made me realize that he hadn’t been kidding.
“I mean, I don’t think so,” I said, tossing my hair over one shoulder.
“It would make sense, Gianna,” Barnes said slowly. “It would definitely explain how weird your parents are, and why they kept you and your sister so sheltered.”
“But if he’s so angry with me, why doesn’t he just call me himself?” I asked. “I don’t get it – I don’t get why anyone would be threatening me.”
“I don’t know, either,” Barnes said. He looked troubled.
“Hey,” I said, sitting up quickly. “What if it’s about Heaven Cove?”
“What?”
“What if like, someone’s jealous that I got the role? What if they’re trying to scare me out of Los Angeles?”
“I don’t know, Gianna,” Barnes said.
“Come on,” I said. “It makes a lot more sense than my father trying to hunt me down and frighten me!”
Barnes frowned, but he didn’t say anything. “How many calls like that have you gotten?”
“Five or six.” I twisted my hands together in my lap. “I think I’m going to call the police – they can probably help, especially now that I know it’s someone jealous of my role.”
“Gianna, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Barnes said. “You don’t know who it is.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I want to call the police and have them get involved,” I said, standing up and putting my hands on my hips.
Barnes stood up and put an arm around me. “Gianna, I’m going to take care of you,” he replied. “You know I can – I can do almost anything. I’m a lawyer, I can write, I can direct…what can’t I do?”
I pulled away and looked at him. “Are you serious right now?”
“Well, yeah,” Barnes said. “I just don’t want you worrying.”
“How can I not worry? There’s someone out there who wants to hurt me,” I said. “What should I be doing, running around and dancing for joy?”
Barnes put his face in his hands and sighed. “No, Gianna, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I don’t think we need to involve the cops when I’m right here.”
“You’re not right here,” I pointed out angrily. “You were in your office for two whole hours earlier!”
Barnes closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Gianna, I—“
“No,” I said, stepping back. “I’m not fighting with you about this. Not right now.” Turning on my heel, I stalked out of the living room and into the guest room where I slammed the door and flopped down on the bed. I was so angry that I couldn’t even think – who the hell did Barnes think he was, trying to tell me what to do? It was my problem, not his!
“Gianna, please open the door,” Barnes said. He knocked gently.
I pulled a pillow over my head. “Go away,” I yelled. “I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“If you don’t open the door, I’ll do it myself,” Barnes growled.
I didn’t move.
Barnes kicked down the door and burst into the room. Gasping, I sat up straight and stared at him.
“What the hell are you doing,” I demanded angrily. “Have you lost your mind?”
“No,” Barnes said. “But I want you to know that I’m here – that I’ll always take care of you, even when you don’t want me to.” He was breathing hard, and for a moment, I saw past my anger and realized that he meant every word. But when my eyes landed on the jagged wooden shards where the door had been, my anger came rushing back.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I said, shaking my head.
“Gianna, I don’t want there to be any secrets between us,” Barnes said loudly. “And I can’t have you running off and crying every time I say something you don’t like!”
“Anything I don’t like?” I repeated incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t understand why you’re so resistant to the idea of letting me handle this,” Barnes said. “I’m perfectly capable of hiring a private investigator on my own, without the cops.”
“And I don’t understand why your ego is suddenly bigger than my need for safety,” I shot back. “You’re a selfish pig, you know that?”
Barnes stared at me, slack-jawed and openmouthed.
“All you can think of is being great at something else,” I continued angrily. Somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, I knew I was being unreasonable and irrational. But that wasn’t enough to make me stop. I was so angry – angry with Barnes, angry with my father, angry with whoever the fuck was stalking me.
“I’m not talking to you right now,” I said, pushing past Barnes and storming out of the room. I heard Barnes’s footsteps behind me, and I knew he was following me, but I didn’t care. I stalked into the living room and stood by the giant windows, looking out at the street and trying to catch my breath. I can’t believe this is happening, I thought, putting my hand to my chest. My heart was thudding, and my stomach felt twisted and upset.
Just as I was about to face Barnes and tell him off, once and for all, that was when I saw it. A quick flash of light, no longer than half a second.
“What was that?” I shrieked, jumping into the air. “What happened?”
“What?” Barnes rushed over to my side. “Gianna, what are you talking about?”
“There was a flash, out there,” I said, pointing into the darkness. Leaning close to the window, I cupped my hands around my eyes to block out the indoor light. I gasped when I saw two men scurrying away from our property, long-range cameras held in their hands.
“Oh my god,” I said. “Those men, they just took a picture of me!”
“They’re probably paparazzi,” Barnes said. “You’re getting famous.”
“No,” I shrieked. “It can’t be that – if anything, I bet those people are connected to the creepy phone calls I keep getting!”
“Gianna, calm down,” Barnes said. “There’s nothing to worry about, everything is going to be fine.”
Something inside of me snapped, and I whirled around, glaring hotly at him. “No,” I said. “No, Barnes, everything is not going to be fine. I can’t believe you’d even have the nerve to say that right now! Someone is stalking me, and they want to frighten me, and make sure I stay frightened! And I’m fucking terrified! And you’re doing nothing to help!”
Barnes’s face fell, and he stared at me. “Gianna, please, I—“
“I don’t care!” I yelled. Grabbing my purse from the table, I shoved my feet into a pair of heels and ran out the front door.
“Gianna, wait! It’s too dangerous!”
“Fuck you!” I yelled over my shoulder as I ran down the long driveway and into the street. My feet ached almost instantly – I’d never gotten used to running in heels – but I kept going, pushing on. I could hear Barnes’s footsteps behind me but that only motivated me to go faster. Soon, I was nearly blind with my own tears. When I felt drops of rain pelting my hair, I ran under the cover of a giant tree on the corner.
“Gianna!” Barnes yelled. He sounded panicked, and for a moment, I almo
st stepped out from my cover. As he came into view, I saw that his face was contorted with grief and worry. Under the yellow glow of the streetlights, he looked like a man who had lost everything. My heart ached, and the tears were coming harder than ever as I finally gathered my courage, dismissed my pride, and stepped out onto the street.
When Barnes saw me, he stared. “Gianna, come here,” he said. “Please.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath and slowly walked over to him.
“I’m so sorry,” I said softly. I couldn’t even look Barnes in the eye – it was too painful. He slipped his fingers under my chin and tilted my face up to meet his.
“I know,” Barnes said in a low, throaty voice. “Gianna, if anything ever happened to you, I’d be devastated. Do you know that? Do you know how much I love you?”
I gasped.
“Yes,” Barnes said. He took me in his arms and kissed me passionately. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to mine. Like me, he was breathing fast and hard. “I love you, Gianna DiFaba. You’re the only woman for me.”
“I love you, too,” I said softly. As soon as I said it, I knew the words were true. “I know it’s crazy – I know we barely know each other. But I can’t help it. I can’t stay away from you, Barnes.”
Barnes kissed me again, and I melted into his arms, resting against his hard, muscular body. As we kissed, I began to cry again.
“Gianna,” Barnes said softly, pulling away and stroking my hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said, wiping my cheeks. “They’re not sad tears,” I added softly. “I’m just…I’m so happy, Barnes.”
“I love you,” Barnes said. He slid an arm under my knees and scooped me up until I was cradled against his chest.
As Barnes carried me home, I wondered what would happen between the two of us. We were madly in love, even if we barely knew each other. I knew that we were perfect together. We were both strong and pigheaded and stubborn and willful…and both of us hated to be wrong. But I also knew that if we were going to make our relationship last, it would take a lot of effort from both of us. And somehow, I was going to have to learn to compromise.
Chapter 10
Barnes
It sounds crazy, but after the fight I had with Gianna, I felt like our relationship was stronger than ever before. It was the first time we’d really bared our souls to each other…and the first time I truly realized Gianna was every bit as strong as she acted.
Months passed. It was strange – in Boston, the weather would have changed. The leaves would have turned from green to brown and golden and red. Snow would have fallen from the sky. But in Los Angeles, it almost felt like living inside of a snow globe, except a snow globe where it never actually snowed.
Heaven Cove was going well. It was even nominated for a few daytime television awards, although Eric and I were both confident that it wouldn’t win. Gianna’s career was really taking off, and soon she had to start wearing sunglasses everywhere just so pictures wouldn’t appear in the papers. But my happiness felt like something that was larger than the sum of its parts. I’d gone from being miserable in Boston to have a perfect life.
A year ago, it wouldn’t have seemed possible.
“Barnes,” Gianna called. “We’re going to be late for the set!” She walked into the living room wearing a stunning minidress that showed off her long, tanned legs. LA had been good to Gianna. Her red hair now had natural blonde highlights from the sun, and her limbs were golden-brown from constant time poolside.
I grinned. “I don’t care,” I said. “Besides, I’m not sure I should let you out of the house looking like that.”
Gianna flushed. “I don’t want to lose my job,” she said, tossing her long hair over one shoulder. “And neither do you.”
I shrugged. “I always have the office in Boston.”
“God, I wish you’d just hire someone, or start delegating, or something,” Gianna said. She yawned. “It seems like that’s the only thing that really stresses you out nowadays.”
I frowned. Even though she was right, I wasn’t ready to give up my firm. At least, not yet.
“Someday,” I said, pulling Gianna close and kissing her. She melted in my arms.
“I love you,” Gianna said. She pulled away and batted her eyelashes at me.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said slowly, taking Gianna’s hand and leading her over to the couch.
“There’s something we should talk about.”
“Baby, we’re going to be late,” Gianna said. She pursed her lips. “Is it important?”
I nodded. “It’s very important,” I said. “I was thinking that we should get married.”
Gianna flushed. “You’re not serious,” she said.
“I am,” I replied. “I love you – and I know you love me. And we’re already living together, and we know we’ll be together for the rest of our lives. And I could protect you if you were my wife. Don’t you understand how much easier that would make things for us?”
“You’re really serious?” Gianna’s eyes were wide, and I watched them fill with tears. Dropping to one knee, I took Gianna’s hand in mine.
“Gianna DiFaba, I love you. Will you be my wife?”
“This is such a surprise,” Gianna said. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
“Since the day I met you,” I said honestly. “But I thought it would be better to wait,” I smirked. “You know. I had to let you know that I wasn’t a massive creep or anything.”
“Yes,” Gianna said. A tear rolled down her cheek, and I reached forward to wipe it away. “I’ll marry you, Barnes.” She leaned down and kissed me deeply, nibbling on my lower lip until I purred. When she pulled away, she grinned.
“Are you going to tell everyone on set that you’re marrying the director?” I raised an eyebrow.
Gianna laughed. “Only if that means you can put me in more scenes.”
I chuckled. “We’ll see what we can do.”
“Do you want a big wedding?”
“I want whatever you want,” I replied. “What do you want?”
Gianna frowned. “I want a big party,” she said slowly. “But maybe you’re right – maybe if we get married sooner, it’ll be better. That way, if anything happens to me, you can—“
I put my hand over her mouth. “No more talking about things like that,” I said firmly. “Now that we’re getting married, you’ll be my wife, and I’ll truly be able to keep you safe.”
Gianna swallowed. “I hope so,” she said. “I really do, Barnes.”
The next week, I took Gianna to a luxury jewelry store and let her pick out an engagement ring and a wedding band. As much as I tried to contain my excitement, I couldn’t. When it came to thinking about marrying Gianna, all I could do was think about how much I wanted her to be mine forever.
“I’m sorry this isn’t very romantic,” I told Gianna as we arrived at the county courthouse. Looking around at the bleak wooden panels and windowless rooms, I wondered if maybe we shouldn’t have planned a real wedding after all. But Gianna’s radiant smile was all I needed to convince me that I’d made the right decision.
“This is perfect,” Gianna said. She leaned in close and kissed me on the cheek. “Barnes, I couldn’t be happier to be marrying you.”
I grinned. “You’re going to make my ego even bigger,” I told her.
Gianna rolled her eyes. “God help me,” she replied.
We followed a solemn-faced judge into a dull room and stood by a table while he cleared his throat and opened a book. The vows were simple – there was nothing flowery or religious about them, but somehow that made them all the more special. After all, despite our unusual relationship and age difference, I knew that we were getting married for all the right reasons.
“Barnes Harrington, do you take this woman to be your wife? To have, to hold, through sickness and health?”
I looked at Gianna. She was smiling, and she looked like she was on the ver
ge of what she called ‘happy tears.’ I’d never understood why women cried so much, but suddenly, I didn’t care.
“I do,” I said.
“Gianna DiFaba, do you take this man to be your husband? To have, to hold, through sickness and health?”
“I do,” Gianna said. She squeezed my hand.
“Then I pronounce you husband and wife,” the judge said. His stern expression disappeared, and he smiled. “You may kiss the bride.”
I slipped a diamond eternity band onto Gianna’s finger and leaned in close to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around my neck as I pressed my body against her.