As far as he’d seen, Gia never wore anything else to bed. However, she had put on a pair of shorts which she never did – Beppe’s t-shirts easily covered her to her thighs. “I was looking for the cheese grater and can't seem to find it. I wanted to make my dad’s macaroni and cheese for breakfast. I’m sure you used to have it in here somewhere...” she rambled continuing her search. Beppe moved closer to her and felt her body stiffen as she felt him behind her. He didn't even attempt to touch her. He reached up to the cupboard right above Gia’s head and took out the grater.
“Here,” he said as he leaned closer to her. Still not facing him, Gia murmured ‘Thanks’.
She then proceeded to prepare the most delicious macaroni and cheese on earth. Her dad’s recipe had nothing to do with the American version of the dish. He’d come up with it himself, tweaking and perfecting it until it tasted like a little piece of heaven.
Sighing, Beppe poured himself a cup of coffee and decided to give Gia some space. It was only a matter of time before she poured out her troubles. Gia had never been able to keep a secret from him. He was always the first person she called when she had news, of any kind, and his advice was probably the only one she listened to. Occasionally.
In less than fifteen minutes Gia joined him on the sofa, her own steaming mug of coffee in hand.
“Francesco kissed me last night,” she said and took a sip of the hot liquid. Just like that. No preparation, no easing in. Beppe felt as if she’d punched him in the solar plexus. He couldn’t breathe and his vision blurred.
“He did what?” Beppe managed after a few long seconds passed in silence.
“He kissed me.”
The calmness with which Gia spoke ignited such raw anger in his heart that he couldn’t think straight.
“Look, Beppe, I’m only telling you because you’re my best friend. Not because I owe you any explanation about my love life.”
If it had been anyone else, Beppe wouldn't have been quite so pissed off. He would still hate the fact that someone else had touched Gia’s lips, but he wouldn't feel as if he needed to find the fucker and kill him.
Francesco was different. He wasn’t just some guy Gia had met in a club. Francesco was the guy Gia had a crush on, the guy she admired and looked up to.
Francesco was probably the only guy who had the ability to take Gia away from him.
“And as your friend I can tell you that he’s going to fuck you and then discard you like all his sluts. You’re going to lose your job and your dignity. Is that what you want?”
Beppe stood up and started to pace angrily around the living room.
“How do you know that? How do you know he’s not genuinely interested in me? How do you know he doesn’t want something more than sex from me?” Gia put her mug on the coffee table with more force than necessary and her eyes sparkled with anger.
“Because I do! The guy’s how old? Forty? He’s never been married, engaged or even had a serious relationship! He fucks them and leaves them, Gia. Face it.”
“It takes one to know one, right?” Gia lowered her voice, but her eyes remained dangerously alight with anger.
“Exactly! He’s just as big of a whore as I am. And I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Beppe stopped pacing and stood in front of Gia. He stared down at her with his fists clenched as his side. He was trying to find the words to convince her that this was a very bad idea.
“I’m a big girl, Beppe. I can make my own decisions and live with the consequences. Right now, I want to go on a date with Francesco. I want to give him a chance.” She spoke calmly, steadily, her eyes never leaving his as she stood up to get closer to him. Even in his fury Beppe’s heart started beating faster and his palms itched with the desire to touch her. Claim her.
“He’s not good enough for you,” he stated simply, most of his anger gone and replaced by fear. Fear of losing the only woman he’d ever loved, fear of her getting hurt, fear of never seeing her first thing in the morning again.
“Francesco is an accomplished businessman and a chef with two Michelin stars and three restaurants,” she said, her voice full of... pride! God, Beppe hated how she said his name, as if he meant something to her.
“That doesn’t make him good enough for you, amore.” Beppe was dying to say that it wasn’t possible to be such an accomplished businessman without having shady connections. He wanted to shake her and tell her that even if Francesco owned the fucking moon he still wouldn’t be worthy of Gia. That there must some ulterior motive to his sudden interested in someone he’d known for a year. He could have said that when, not if, he hurt Gia, Beppe would have to kill the motherfucker. But he didn’t say any of it, because it wouldn’t change anything – Gia had already made her mind – and it would just make them argue.
“And you are?” she asked, challenging him.
“No. No I’m not, but for you I’d spend the rest of my life trying to be the best I could be, if only you’d let me,” he whispered brokenly, because he genuinely didn’t trust his voice to carry his words any louder. Something in his expression must have made Gia realise how difficult this conversation was for him, because her eyes softened and she cut the rest of the distance between them.
Resting her fingers on his bare bicep, she said, “Don’t ever think you’re not good enough for me, Beppe. Or for anyone, for that matter. You’re a wonderful man. I admire your strength, your courage and your big heart.” She hugged him then, wrapping him within her petite frame and squeezing.
Beppe felt as if she was ripping out his heart.
He had to do something. Fighting with her wasn't going to help him. Gia would become as stubborn as a mule if someone tried to pull her in another direction. But he definitely needed to think of something. Losing her was not an option.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Why the fuck had he suggested they go to a karaoke bar after the match?
Everything had been going so well – after their fight turned heart-to-heart in the morning, both Beppe and Gia had been in better spirits. Her macaroni and cheese had that effect on people. They had eaten and had more coffee, then Beppe had blasted AC/DC from the sound system and they sang and danced until it was time to get ready for the game.
Once Max picked them up and they headed to Lisa’s, the whole atmosphere had changed. It was all about football. Both Beppe and Max had been football fans all their lives and the thought of going to the Marassi to support their beloved teams sent a very unique buzz through their veins.
Since it was a charity game, both teams played solely for the audience’s enjoyment and they scored four goals each. Even the girls had gotten excited and had a good time. They had a lovely dinner and the whole day had been so perfect. Until Beppe had opened his big mouth and suggested they go to his favorite karaoke bar.
He should have known that cocktails plus live music plus all the unresolved emotion he still carried inside, would result in a catastrophe.
And it did.
When it was his turn to get on stage, he had poured his heart out to Lenny Kravitz’s ‘If You Can’t Say No’. He had stared straight into Gia's eyes, letting her see everything he felt. Her face had become an emotionless mask the moment Beppe sang the first words, but her eyes betrayed how she really felt.
She was livid.
For a second, Beppe had felt a pang of guilt for doing this to her. Telling his best friend to think of him as she made love to another man was a low blow. But then, resentment and anger buried his guilt. Yes, she should think about him when she was with Francesco! Or with any other guy for that matter. Beppe was the one who knew everything that was to know about Gianna Selvaggio. He was the one who she had grown up with, who had laughed and cried and suffered and celebrated with her. He was the one who supported her and cheered her on and didn’t let her give up, even when that seemed like the only option. He’d seen her at her best and at her worst and knew every single piece of her soul.
He was the one she belonged to.
It
was past time to stop doubting himself, stop being afraid that he wasn’t good enough for her, stop thinking about his faults and most of all, stop thinking that he’d turn out exactly like his father. Beppe was nothing like his father – everyone who knew him could see that and it was time to start believing it himself. He’d never hurt Gia. He’d die before he let anyone else hurt her either. Unlike his father, Beppe would never let bitterness and anger consume him to a point where his soul needed to feed off pain and misery to survive.
Beppe was better than that. He'd proven it a million times over that his father’s abuse hadn't and wouldn't turn him into a monster. Gia had played a major role in his survival. If it hadn’t been for her, Beppe wasn’t sure he’d have anything to ground him, protect him and inspire him to find the inner strength not only to survive but to come out a stronger, better person. Gia was his core, his base, his center. His.
He had to stop fucking around and get his woman.
That fucking epiphany was long overdue, but having it in the middle of a song that offended and angered the object of said epiphany was not really helpful. Gia didn't bother to wait for Beppe to finish singing. She pierced him with one last glare - if stares could burn he’d have turned to ash in an instant, but God help him he loved those furious, hazel eyes – and bidding Lisa goodbye, left.
Beppe contemplated throwing the mike down and chasing after her, but that would have caused a huge scene. Besides he knew he would never catch up to her before she hopped into a taxi. And even if he did manage to catch her, she was too enraged to talk right now. Deciding the best thing to do was give her some space, Beppe finished his song and went outside to have a cigarette. He needed to calm down and process his thoughts and emotions so he could figure out what to do.
******
Asshole! Irresponsible, selfish, immature asshole!
Gia slammed the cab’s door as she got in and barely managed to tell the driver her address through gritted teeth. She was pissed! She couldn’t remember the last time she had ever been so mad.
How could Beppe do this? Look her in the eye and sing ‘If you can’t say no, just think about me...’ in front of a bar full of people? But what was worse, how could he even think that was OK? What was going through his thick, stupid head? They were supposed to be friends. Friends. The possibility of being anything else died the moment Beppe spent two fucking years in Tuscany and left Gia behind. And for the whole time since he’d got back that was enough. He slept around, she had a few casual hook ups and they stayed out of each other’s business. Now suddenly, Beppe decided he wanted something else. Something more. Well, guess what amico, you’re not getting anything else!
I gave you everything, all of me, and you threw it away.
Gia’s hands shook as she rummaged through her bag to find her wallet and pay for the cab. Finally, she managed to extract a twenty euro note and toss it at the driver, jumping out of the car and slamming the door behind her. The driver let out a colourful curse as Gia abused his car for the second time, but she was too riled up to care. She unlocked her front door, closed and locked it behind her, before she allowed herself to break down. Sliding into a heap against the door, Gia sobbed quiet, angry, confused tears until she was empty physically and emotionally.
It helped. The rage subsided and Gia could think clearly again. She went to her room, took a quick shower and lay down in her bed. That was when everything came rushing back and any chance of sleeping was gone. This time, the fury welling up inside her was more controlled, more determined. It simmered under the surface instead of exploding.
Gia loved Beppe, she really did. Imagining her life without him in it, hurt. But that was what she was going to do. Cutting him out of her life seemed like the only way to go.
She’d tried fighting with him, she’d tried talking calmly, she’d bared her fucking soul the other night when he’d kissed her. Gia couldn’t take it anymore. If he kept pushing, one of these days she was going to crack and she was going to let him back in, all the way, and when he left or hurt her – because keeping in mind Beppe’s track record that was what he always did – he’d break her. There would be no coming back from this, not again.
Gia liked to think of herself as a strong woman, but nobody was that strong. Nobody survived their heart being broken, twice, by the person they loved most in the world.
Decision made, Gia felt a bit calmer. She went to get her phone from her bag and turn it off. Beppe might call and she didn’t need or want the distraction. Before she hit the off button she looked at the screen and saw she had one text message.
Sighing, she opened it and to her surprise it wasn’t from Beppe. It was from Francesco.
Francesco: You’re awake, aren’t you?
Gia smiled. It was 12:15 am and most people would be asleep by now.
Gia: Yes. How did you know? Are you stalking me?
Francesco: No. I guessed. Someone who enjoys working late shifts will not go to bed early on their day off. You’re a night owl, aren’t you?
Gia: I am. I guess you are too. Are you NOT a morning person, too?
Francesco: God, no. Hate mornings. I’d much rather spend the night... not sleeping and make up for it in the morning.
Gia: Me too.
Francesco: How about I take you on that date you promised me tomorrow?
Gia: Can’t. Have a family BBQ planned.
Francesco: After.
Gia: Don’t know when it will be over.
Francesco: Whenever. Since we’re both late nighters, let’s make the most of it.
Gia paused with her fingers on the keyboard, thinking. Should she accept? Was she in the right emotional state to date right now? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been out on a date – it’d been way too long. Maybe that was what she needed. Maybe dating someone as gorgeous and sophisticated as Francesco would be good for her. Get her mind off of Beppe. And she had promised to go out with him, she couldn’t go back on her word, could she?
Francesco: Checked your shift schedule earlier today so unless you agree to go out with me tomorrow, I’d have to wait until Wednesday when you have a day off. I’m not a patient man, Gianna. I want to see you tomorrow.
Gia: OK. I’ll text you when I’m ready to go.
Gia hoped she’d made the right choice. Francesco was a much needed a distraction from her problems. She prayed that her fragile emotional state wasn’t leading her in the wrong direction.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Beppe didn’t come to the BBQ. It wasn’t unexpected or unwelcome – Gia was relieved she didn’t have to deal with him all evening. She’d made a decision to put some space between them and she was sticking to it.
Besides, she was still furious with him.
Torn between her anger at Beppe’s selfish behavior and her sadness of losing him as her best friend, Gia was distracted throughout the evening. She was vaguely aware of conversation at the table and of everyone’s good mood, but couldn’t do much more than smile and nod from time to time. Max was watching her with concern, but she ignored him. The last thing she needed was a heart to heart with her brother. Her mum was occupied with catching up with Lisa’s mum, Niki, and didn’t bother to question Gia about her lack of good humor.
When dinner came to an end, Gia volunteered to clean up so she could dwell on her dark thoughts alone. By the time the table was cleared, the leftovers put away, and the dishwasher loaded, all but her mum and Niki had gone.
Now was the time to call Francesco and let him know she was ready to go. Was she? The last thing she needed right now was to go out. But she’d promised, and besides, it might be good for her to have some fun instead of sulking and going to bed at 9:00 pm.
Gia texted him to let him know she was ready. He replied almost instantly, saying he’d pick her up in half an hour. He didn’t mention what his plans for them were, but did say she should wear something comfortable.
At least they weren’t going to some posh, overpriced restaurant. Gia loved he
r job and good food, but didn't care for the snobby atmosphere of those places. She didn't think good food should be pretentious or come at a price. But, working in Francesco’s posh restaurant would open many doors for her in the future and maybe then she would be able to make a difference and help bring gourmet food to everyone, not just the privileged few.
Opening her wardrobe, Gia started looking for her favorite pair of jeans, but couldn’t seem to find them anywhere.
I must have left them at Beppe’s.
That thought caused a stabbing pain in her chest and she rubbed circles with the palm of her hand over her heart. Unwanted tears rolled down her face and her sorrow threatened to suffocate her.
“Goddamn you, Giuseppe Orsino!” she managed through wrenching sobs.
A few minutes later, having pulled herself together, she splashed her face with cold water. It helped a bit, but her eyes were still red from crying. So, she rummaged through the medicine cabinet until she found the brightening drops. In a couple of minutes, her eyes were bright and clear. Unfortunately the drops couldn’t do anything about the sadness weighing on her. It still shimmered in her eyes. Beppe was always saying that her eyes could never lie. As well as Gia had learned to control her emotions and school her features into a blank mask, Beppe could never be fooled.
Stop it!
Is this how it was going to be from now on? Every thought of Beppe would throw her off balance and turn her into a sobbing mess? Or worse, pierce her heart as if someone stabbed her and twisted the knife?
Then, Now, Forever (Heartbeat #2) Page 11