“Looking forward isn’t always the best thing either. I had tunnel vision when it came to the army. No matter where I went in the world, knowing Lulu was here tainted it all. There is nothing more powerful than family. Running away doesn’t cut the ties. You’ll always be tethered to the people you love.”
I think of my parents. Moving to Brazil won’t change the way my father feels about me. He’ll always be here, waiting for my return, waiting to tell me the new ways I’ve disappointed him. Unlike Leeyan, the strings tying me here are weak.
“I hope you aren’t trying to tell me something.” I squeeze her.
“I’m just saying, your parents will still be your parents no matter where you live.” She’s using my own words on me.
“I may be an ambitious idiot, but I feel like Brazil is my chance to be more, have more, have it all—success, respect, money.”
“Love?”
A small bead of sweat runs down my forehead.
“Love isn’t a priority.”
“Really? So, you want respect without caring?”
“I’d rather be feared than loved.” I laugh and wait to see if she gets the movie reference. “It’s a line from A Bronx Tale.”
“I know. It’s stupid.”
“If you didn’t just give me the best orgasm of my life, I’d kick you out of this bed.”
She twists to face me. “The best?”
“Oh jeez, don’t get cocky.”
“You said it.” She looks cocky—cocky and beautiful. “For the record, you are on my top two list.”
I look at her like What the fuck?
“Like out of two, I’m number one.”
She rolls her eyes in the sassiest way a woman can roll her eyes. I want to see them roll again, while I’m inside her. I flip her onto her back and hold her arms at her sides, my body pressed to hers so she can’t move.
“What do I have to do to earn the number one spot?” We lock eyes. “Tell me what you want, Leeyan.”
Her face is sad, the opposite of what she should look like right now.
“I want a happy ending, but I don’t think I deserve one.”
“What does your happily ever after look like?”
“Every morning I wake up to find my husband cooking breakfast for the kids. I’m a cop, and he’s a stay-at-home dad.”
Apparently, I’m not in this fantasy.
“We live in the same house forever, the kind where we mark the wall with the height of our children and never paint over it. I lived in so many places until I met Louisa, and I don’t want Lulu to have that kind of childhood.”
“She doesn’t.” It isn’t my place to have this conversation with her. Hell, I’m not even the man of her dreams.
“Tell me about Brazil?” She changes the subject.
I don’t really want to discuss anything to do with Antonia while I’m lying naked in bed with Leeyan.
“Are you excited? Do you have a place? Tell me about the job.”
“I have an apartment in Ipanema, across the street from the beach. The view is everything you expect, ocean as far as you can see.” I’m no longer thinking of the beach as I watch her face light with excitement.
“Maybe I’ll visit you—if you want me to.” She tries to play coy.
“With Lulu?”
“Sure. Kids love the beach.”
I won’t tell her Lulu hates the beach; she’ll have to find out on her own. “What will you tell Lulu?”
“What do you mean? Can’t I visit a friend?”
“We aren’t friends, not to them.”
The world believes we’re enemies, but here we are, legs entwined, my cock resting on her thigh.
“This feels like the beginning of something, and it scares the shit out of me.” She looks at me for help. “Am I right?”
Leeyan watches my eyes, waiting for me to decide if we have a chance, a future. Even though this feels like the beginning of a happily ever after, I have to lie and tell her it’s only a happy for now.
Chapter Fifteen
I’m driving to the gym when Mom calls to ask if I want a box of old toys. She’s preparing for their eviction even though Josie said the buyer pulled out.
“This is a buyer’s market, Giovanni. Someone will be along again soo—” She cuts out. “Hold on, it’s my call waiting.” She clicks over before I have a chance to object.
She returns a beat later. “Gio?”
“Yeah, Ma. I’m driving.”
“Oh, then just come over. I’m making eggplant parm.”
“I can’t, I have errands to run.”
“You can bring your friend, Lee.” She’s referring to Leeyan, even though I know she knows who she is.
“I’m not with her—I mean, she’s moved…on.”
Leeyan moved into Theo’s building. The favor she didn’t want to cash in on was with Dennis. Since Theo is in her old apartment, Dennis agreed to let Leeyan move in upstairs.
We didn’t make plans to see each other or even talk the morning she left. I didn’t want her to feel as if she owed me anything. I told her to focus on Lulu. Really, I did it for myself. What went down in my bedroom that night was next level. I’m comfortable on my level—leaving it open, no strings. The last thing I need is more strings. My visa was approved. Everything is falling into place.
“Well that’s okay. She was complicated, as you kids say.”
Exactly.
“Come before six, before your father gets home, okay? Bye.”
I’m back on meal prep, so the last thing I need is Mom’s cheesy eggplant parmesan. It does sound good, though, and I could use some comfort food. Lying to my best friend is stressing me out. Theo is with Sylvie now, but who knows, maybe a few months down the line he wants Leeyan back. Maybe she wants him. I don’t want one night of mind-blowing sex to ruin their chance to be a family. Our lives are headed in opposite directions with no way of intersecting. There’s no need for Leeyan and I to pretend it was more than sex.
I cut my workout short because the only thing on my mind is food. When I get to the locker room, my phone is buzzing in my bag.
It’s Theo.
“Dude! Where the fuck have you been?” He’s anxious. “Shit is going down in a major way, bro.”
I’ve been waiting for this call, dreading it. I could be a man, admit she was hiding at my place for weeks, but it will do more harm than good.
When he comes up for air, I give him a: “Damn, dude. That’s crazy.”
He rambles some more about him and Sylvie being a thing and how Leeyan might want him back.
“Leeyan was acting, I don’t know, jealous. I can’t go down that rabbit hole again.”
“You really think she wants you back?” I do a piss-poor job of not sounding jealous, but Theo probably mistakes it for concern.
“Don’t worry, I’m all in with Sylvie. She’s the love of my life.”
I’ve heard all this before with Leeyan. Theo is the one who needs a new set of balls. The boy falls hard.
“Now she’s living above me and I don’t know if I can trust her with Lulu.”
I jump at the chance to defend Leeyan.
“Give her a chance. If nothing else, you get help with the rug rat, and I don’t know, maybe Lulu needs Leeyan.”
Theo is quiet. I worry I laid it on too thick.
“You’re right,” he finally says. “I mean, shit, she’s Lulu’s mom—even though she fucking bailed on her.”
I bite my tongue. Standing up for Leeyan is the last thing I would do—the old Gio, not the Gio who has licked every inch of her body.
“I gotta go, bro. I’m going to my parents’ place.”
“Tell them I said hi and sorry I haven’t brought Lulu around in a while.”
We hang up and my first instinct is to call Leeyan, but I don’t want to come off as playing both sides. This was inevitable. Theo is my best friend, and Leeyan is…well, complicated.
Mom is sweeping the porch when I pull up. Since Dad is
still at work, I block the driveway. Mom stops and leans on her broom as she watches me parallel park. A woman walks out of the empty house next door, and Mom steps inside and closes the door.
I’m barely out of my car when the woman starts speaking to me.
“I hope you’re not here for the open house—we just closed up.” Her hand is extended. “I’m Maureen Shafer, City Lights Realty.”
I take her card.
“Also, I think we might have an offer on the table.” She crosses her fingers. “But this one”—she gestures to my house—“this one is a gem. Untouched, original woodwork, oak floors—a virgin.”
I play with her a little. “Is it rented?”
“Yes, but if you plan to live here”—she winks—“owner move-in will solve that problem.”
That problem. My parents are that problem.
“What are they asking?”
“It’s a fair price.” She looks back at the house, ready to pull a number out of her ass. “Eight,” she tosses out. When I don’t bite, she blurts out, “Seven fifty is their absolute lowest. At that price, it won’t be on the market for long.”
“Will I be able to see it?”
She moves closer to whisper, “The seller is really attached to the old couple who rents the property. They’ve lived here forever.” She rolls her eyes. “She wants to respect their privacy, yadda yadda.”
“But they’re taking offers?”
“Yes, and I have pictures online.” She flips open her messenger bag and pulls out a flyer. “Showings are done by appointment only.”
Maureen continues down the street to collect her sandwich sign, and I look at the flyer. The photos of my parents’ outdated furniture sit in little squares with captions that read: “charming”, “designer’s dream”, “vintage accents”. I don’t see a large kitchen with great potential. I see the stove my mother has spent most of my life standing at, making every meal of my childhood, the arch to the living room I helped Mom decorate every year for Christmas, the dining room table my parents received as a wedding gift from my grandparents. I crumple the flyer and shove it in my pocket as I walk inside. I find mom in the kitchen. She already has two containers packed for me, sitting on the counter.
“Hey, Ma.” I walk up behind her and kiss her cheek. Her face is red, like she’s been crying. Rather than ask why or tell her about the real estate agent outside, I talk about food. Food is safe.
“I don’t need that much food.”
“Who’s going to eat it here? We’re only two people.”
“Why do you make so much?”
“I don’t know how to make less. The recipe is for a family, not two people.” She’s laying the guilt on thicker than the cheese in the dish she’s covering with foil.
“Okay, Ma.” I pat her shoulder and sit at the table. I pull out my phone to see if Leeyan has sent me a text. She’d love my mom’s eggplant parmesan. It’ll make a tasty post-sex meal. It was my idea to leave things open, but it stings every time I check my phone and don’t see her name.
“The box is on the floor in your room.” Mom reminds me why I’m here. “I was going to toss it, but some things you could sell on the internet. I don’t know, make some money.”
“It’s just a bunch of old junk.”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “That’s for you to decide.”
My childhood bed was replaced with a futon right after I moved out. Mom uses this room for crafting, knitting, or whatever old ladies do. The box is on the floor next to a desk—one that looks familiar.
“Hey Ma, when’d you get this desk?” I examine the drawers.
She appears in the doorway. “It’s from IKEA.” She pronounces it hi-key-ya.
“I know—when did you get it? You guys should be getting rid of old furniture, not buying more.”
I’ve never really seen my mother angry. Sure, I got in trouble as a kid, but just kid stuff, nothing that caused her to look at me the way she is now.
“Your father bought it on clearance. It didn’t come with the instructions, so he went on the internet.”
It’s just like my old man to buy an IKEA desk on clearance. It’s already cheap as hell. I start rummaging through the box of old toys and find an old Transformer that could be worth something along with a stack of baseball cards.
“Remember this?” I hold up a baseball I signed when I was ten and we put it in a plastic trophy case. “I really thought it would be worth something one day.”
“It’s nice.” Mom wipes her hands on the apron around her waist. It’s her nervous tick. “He found a video.”
“A video of what? One of my high school games?”
“Giovanni,” Mom snaps. “He found the video.”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
I start making a pile of things I want to keep on the desk.
“The video was you, Gio.” Her tone changes from anger to pain. “Building a desk in your underwear.” My mother, for the first time in my life, stares at me in disappointment, shame.
“What do you mean?” Playing dumb doesn’t help.
“It was you and another boy in your underwear.” She sighs and wipes her already dry hands again. “Your father saw everything. He only allowed me to see your face on the screen because I didn’t believe him. He watched it all…everything.”
I go from embarrassment to defense mode.
“There was nothing to see. I put together a desk, so what?” I repack the box and walk out of the room. “I made a lot of money that day—did he see that?”
Mom follows me to the kitchen. “It isn’t about money, Gio. Your dignity—”
“My dignity?” I spit as I pick up the food containers. “He’s the one who cleans other people’s shit and piss all day long. So what if I put together a desk in my underwear? At least those men respect me.”
That’s a lie. Those motherfuckers recorded us. They broke the rules and will be banned from The Agency.
“You’re an object to them,” Mom argues.
“I’d rather be an object than nothing.”
Mom glances at the clock, a subtle cue that I should go before the old man gets here. Even though leaving is for my own good, it hurts that she wants me to go. Me being here makes her life harder and my choices easier.
“I gotta go, Ma.” I kiss her cheek and she pats my arms. “I love you.”
She takes my face in her hands and kisses my cheeks. “I love you, patanino.”
There was a time I went months without seeing them. I lived on the other side of the city, but it could’ve been the other side of the world. Moving to Brazil won’t change my relationship with my parents. Nothing can salvage this sinking ship.
Mom usually walks me outside and waves as I drive off, but not today. She kisses me goodbye at the door and goes back inside. I have a feeling she’s hiding, and as I get in my car, I see why. Josie waves from across the street. She must be visiting Maggie. I place the food containers in the trunk then go say hi.
“How are you, Miss Josie?” I hug her.
“I’ll never get over how tall you got.” She gives me a squeeze. Josie’s curly red hair is peppered with gray, her waist a little thicker. “Picking up food from your mom?”
“You know how she is.” I look back at the house and wonder if she’s peeking at us through the curtains.
“I do.” Josie smiles in reverie. “I’m going to miss her cooking.”
“Then why are you kicking them out?” I don’t mean to sound cold. “Can’t you work something out so they can stay?”
“I offered them the house, they didn’t want it.” She shrugs like there is nothing more she can do.
“They can’t afford it.” I feel emotions creeping to the surface—guilt, anger, pride. “You can raise the rent if you need to—I’ll pay the difference.” I shouldn’t be making these kinds of promises. My father would kill me if he knew I made this offer. He’d move just to spite me.
“It isn’t about the money, Giovanni. We’re old and
tired. This city is for the young. We just want out, a nice quiet place in the country.”
Easy for her to say; she’s rich. My parents have nothing, but that isn’t Josie’s fault. She’s done so much for my family already. The rent on our house has been the same for nearly a decade.
“This is a great house to raise a family in.” She gives me that mom-like look. “Are you dating?”
Josie has been trying to set me up with one of her daughters since before I had hair on my balls.
“I’m seeing someone,” I lie, but the truth is, I want to see her. I miss her.
“That’s good.” She pats my shoulder. “If you have a friend looking for a house, let me know. I’d love to keep it in the family, but my girls want to live in the sun—except Maggie. She’s nostalgic.”
“Tell Mags I said hi.”
She goes inside, leaving me alone on the street.
I wonder if Theo would be interested in buying the place and renting it to my parents, but that’s ridiculous—he can’t afford it. Nobody I consider a friend has the cash to buy a house and let my parents live in it for less than half the monthly mortgage payment. I’m already too invested in Antonia, and the last thing I need is her having power over my parents.
This is on me and my first instinct is to run.
Chapter Sixteen
I text Antonia and ask if she has time to talk. We set up a video call twenty minutes later.
“Olá,” I say to show off.
“Como vai?” She asks if everything is good. “You’re worried—I can see it in your forehead.”
I look at my face in the little square on the bottom of the screen. My forehead looks normal.
“You never call me unless it’s something.” She lights a cigarette and takes a long drag. “Speak!”
“I have a favor to ask,” I start.
Her left eyebrow goes up as she rests her elbow on the desk in anticipation.
“Do you think I can keep my apartment after I move to Rio?”
“Why?” She’s always direct and to the point. There’s no bullshitting Antonia. “You think you will fail?”
“No! Nothing like that.” I make a psh sound. I’ve debated whether to tell her I want to move my parents in after I leave. If she knows they’re here, it gives her so much more leverage over me. “I want to have a place when I come back to visit.”
Side Game (Men of Trance Book 2) Page 14