"With pleasure, old man," Gino laughed, hefting himself into the same old, dusty grey corduroy couch that creaked with the impact.
As we got driving, Gino as Yoshi and me as Mario, Gino asked again, casually, "So, what did I miss?"
Part of me vibrated with anger. The funeral of your own father, for one.
"Listen," Gino said suddenly, "I'm sorry I've been an idiot. I don't know where the past half-decade has gone. It feels like it just slipped by. Like I blinked and... Drank it all away. Last time I went to the doctor, he said I'd die if I kept up like this. I just laughed and got a bunch of La Fin du Monde, a beer from Quebec. Do you know it?" He continued after a beat, getting lost on memory lane for a minute. "Anyway, I don't know how to say that I am sorry. That I've been a class-A dickhole. A dickwad. A jerkoff. Mama cried when she saw me yesterday. Maria wouldn't say anything."
"They're just worried," I said. I didn't say the next part, but I didn't have to.
"That it won't last," Gino said quietly. "You know what? I am too. I’m scared, because I like this. This sober thing. It's been a long time. And I like it more than I thought I would. I mean, shit. Sometimes, when those feelings come, and I remember all the dumb shit I've done and how I missed Papa's funeral—how I wasn't even there when he was dying—"
I held up a hand, "Gino, stop. We're just happy to have you back."
He nodded quickly, "I'm happy to be back. And Jen—that freaks me the hell out. I can't remember the last time I had a girlfriend. Actually, I... I don't think I've ever had one, you know?"
He was looking at me with a look that was almost imploring. I felt bad for him. I wasn't the one to be doling out relationship advice. Even though Kandice had texted to wake me, she hadn't returned my call.
Not to mention that with what had happened last night, what I'd said, I may have just screwed everything up even more.
Gino and I played a few rounds of Mario Kart. My Mario, sure enough, continued sailing into first place, while his Yoshi kept a consistent fourth place.
As we prepared to play another round, we heard the creak of the door. It was Maria.
"Well aren't you two a sight for sore eyes," she said.
"Santo cielo, sorella," Gino said. "Party going isn't easy, you know?"
Maria just smiled and settled onto the couch beside us. I offered her a controller and she accepted with a guarded, but happy look at Gino.
"Don't worry," he said. "Giovanni and I already talked about it, how crazy all of this is. Me sober."
"But you're going cold turkey," Maria said carefully.
"With the help of A.A., may I add," Gino said.
"What finally did it, anyway?" I asked bluntly. "What made you finally wake up?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure," Gino said. "Probably a mix of things. First, going to Papa's gravestone was hard. Even though I was still drunk, or hungover—maybe both, seeing that block of stone where he was buried. He was dead. He had died and I hadn't seen him for almost a year. I had even known he was dying and hadn't gone to see him. That woke me up a bit. Got me back to the States anyway, but the minute I got here, a friend picked me up at the airport. Took me out for a welcome home drink. That night at the bar, I met a girl and—"
"You mean that girl we met at the party," Maria said, a small smile playing on her lips. "Jen, right?"
Gino nodded. "It's still early days, but I like her. Whatever that means."
"Maybe enough to cut out drinking," Maria said quietly.
Gino shrugged an affirmative. "This is the longest I've been sober for years, with or without help."
Maria took his arm tentatively and squeezed it. "You know, we're here for you."
"Yeah, yeah," Gino said. "I know you just want me here so I can eat Grandma Tatianna’s old sock-tasting lasagna and tell her it's delizioso."
We laughed as he imitated her naturally shrill but harsh voice for the last word.
"Speaking of love life," Gino said. "You and your wife were looking pretty cozy last night, Giovanni. Can't believe I missed you getting married too."
"We all did," Maria said with a little laugh. "Giovanni was just dating her in secret because she was a journalist, apparently, then he up and married her. Without telling anyone!"
It didn't escape me how she'd emphasized the word apparently and shot a sidelong look my way. I managed to keep an impassive expression. I was keeping the truth about Kandice and me to myself. We had agreed to keep the truth a secret, and I planned to hold that up. At least until I had her permission to tell my siblings.
"There's one more thing," Gino said as we began the Mario Kart race. Maria had decided on Princess Peach.
"Yeah?" I said.
"I want to work at Bruno Inc," Gino said. "And before you mention my horrendous effort last time, I don't want an office job or a job in sales. Not yet, anyway. I want to work in the factory, making the lamps. I want to see how they're constructed."
"You mean start from the bottom?" Maria asked, surprised.
"You know," Gino said casually. "It's like that song says. We started from the bottom, now we're here."
I squinted at him. "Yeah, I don't get it."
"Neither do I," Maria admitted.
Gino just laughed. "Neither do I. I think I just need a few more sober days. Anyway, do you think I could?"
"We could probably start you out on a trial week," I said, shooting Maria a questioning glance, who nodded in response.
"I have to say, I'm really impressed, Gino. None of us ever thought..." She trailed off, not wanting to ruin the happy moment.
"Neither did I," Gino said quietly. "Neither did I."
As we continued our game, a lightness flooded my body. Things were finally starting to feel right. Except for the situation with Kandice. That was still up in the air.
No, I still needed to know where she stood. Where we stood.
29
Kandice
Back at the hotel, I felt relieved. There was something in silence, in being alone, that finally allowed me to sort through my thoughts.
Like how I felt about Jen and Gino. I didn't completely buy it. Logic said that it was too good to be true. But then Jen’s certainty…
Then, there was still the ever-present dilemma of Giovanni and I...
No sooner had I sat down on the bed when my phone rang.
I answered without checking the caller ID.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hello," the voice on the other line replied. "This is Peter Khan speaking."
I dropped the phone.
"Briar Raze?" he asked.
I scrambled to retrieve my phone.
"Sorry," I said. "But is this some kind of joke?"
"Unfortunately not," he said curtly. "Anyway, I'm just calling to say that I owe you an apology. Despite your scathing article about me, my reaction may have been... Over the top. I have ordered my colleagues to give up trailing your cowriter, Jin. As for you, I am willing to wash my hands of the whole affair if you will. I'll have my men back down if you can assure me you won’t be writing any further articles about me. Deal?"
"Deal," I said immediately.
Yeah, no uncertainty there. As far as I was concerned, I had done my part. I had tried to publish the article and the world hadn't wanted to hear it. I wasn't going to go down with a sinking ship, especially when Peter Khan had just called me to personally apologize.
Although that still didn’t explain how the hell this was happening.
"What is the reason for this?" I found myself asking before I could think twice.
"It appears we now run in similar circles, thanks to your recent marriage,” he replied tersely. “Goodbye, Kandice McArthur—or should I say, Bruno.”
He hung up.
"Goodbye," I replied into the dial tone
I sat there for a few seconds, my heartbeat pounding in my head.
Was this real? It had to be Giovanni's doing. There was no other explanation.
Smiling, I clasped my phone t
ight to my chest.
He'd done it.
He had really done it.
I had assumed that Giovanni was someone who only made promises that he could keep. But how could it be that easy to get Peter Khan, a multi-million-dollar business mogul, to change his tune?
Giovanni's power shuddered through me. What he had said last night...
At any rate, I had to call him to thank him. I owed him that, at least.
Giovanni answered on the first ring. "Hey," he said
Before he could say anything more, I interjected. "You won't believe who I just got off the phone with—Peter Khan! He apologized for everything and called for a truce. Giovanni, I don't know what to say other than thank you."
"Thank you is enough," he replied simply, though I could hear the pleasure in his voice.
"It's not, though," I persisted. "You may have just saved my life, and you definitely saved my sanity."
I found myself standing up, dancing across the room. I hadn't realized how much the article had been weighing on me.
"So, it's now finally just how you wanted," Giovanni continued. "A new start."
"Yeah," I said. "Though I don't need everything to be new."
"Meaning?"
"I think I'll have to keep my parents around," I admitted. "And Jen is definitely not going anywhere. As for this guy I married, though..."
"Are you saying that if this guy you married invited you to a picnic this afternoon, you would come?"
"You read my mind," I said.
Silence filled the line. Excitement filled my head.
"Kandice," he said suddenly, "what are you wearing?"
"A t-shirt and a jean skirt," I said.
"Interesting," Giovanni said. "And, where are you?"
"What is this?" I teased. "An interrogation?"
"You didn't answer the question."
His authoritative tone made my body buzz. "I'm sitting on my bed in the hotel room."
"Are your legs spread?"
"They could be," I said, a sultry purr entering my voice.
Fuck, Giovanni knew how to make me wet in seconds.
"Do it," he growled.
I did as he ordered. "What next?" I asked, my voice becoming breathy.
"Touch yourself. Slide slowly inside yourself, pretend it’s my cock."
I gasped as my hand moved my skirt up and, as I continued, I managed to ask, "What about me? Don't I get to ask what you're wearing? What you're doing?"
"I would think you’d know what I’m doing," he growled.
I exhaled hotly.
Fuck. The image of Giovanni's gorgeous, strong hands gliding over his cock. My mouth watered and a surge of wetness flooded my hand.
"Are you naked?" My voice quavered.
"Stop touching yourself," he answered. "Kandice, take your clothes off for me."
I did what he asked, the soft cotton of my t-shirt licking my bare flesh as I moved it off.
"Now your turn," I said. "Though it would be easier if you came over."
"I'm having lunch with my family in a few minutes," he grunted. "If I were there, though, I’d have walked in and seen you on the bed. Moved to stand between your legs as I pressed you against the bed, my hands on your throat. You’re just gazing at me as my cock slides into you pinning you there. I slide in, and out. In and out, fucking you till we’re both raw and aching."
My fingers swept around my clit and a groan escaped me.
Fuck, Giovanni really knew how to spell it out. Already, a hot warmth had taken over me.
I was getting close.
"I want to hear you crying out as you come, over and over. I’d move you over the entire suite, fucking you against the wall, on the floor, in the kitchen. I wouldn’t stop until you begged me."
A cry ripped out of my throat as my body stiffened.
"That's it," Giovanni grunted. "Come for me Kandice, baby."
As if on cue, I came again. And then again.
A small groan from Giovanni, and I knew he was coming too.
It took us a good minute to catch our breaths and for me to realize something.
"If you're having lunch with your family, how are we having a picnic?"
"Good point," he said. "I had just wanted to see you. We can make it an evening picnic, how about that?"
"Sounds great," I said.
He picked me up a few hours later, around five p.m., with the sun still relatively high in the sky.
This time, Giovanni arrived in a red jeep with the top off, with a wicker picnic basket packed in the back seat and a big grin on his face.
As we drove, I kept sneaking looks at him as the Miami scenery zoomed past us. His handsome face was partially hidden by his Ray-Bans.
There was something about him that made me wonder if there was something more about this casual picnic. I knew better than to ask. I would just have to wait and see.
30
Giovanni
Better fucking figure it out, I growled to myself in my head.
I needed to figure this Kandice thing out—preferably before we got to the picnic spot.
Had I meant what I’d said to Kandice the other night? What if I had? Why did I say it, if I didn’t?
All this pretending was exhausting. Back with Maria and Gino, sitting around playing Mario Kart, every inch of me had burned to tell them the truth.
To just spill it. To confess that yeah, maybe things between Kandice and me had started out fake, but now... I didn't even know anymore.
I pulled up to a park on a hill with well-manicured grass. The color was deceptively deep for being in a desert climate. Nearby was a beautiful view of the beach and an odd, somewhat out of place stone fountain. There was barely anyone else here.
We unfolded the blanket and laid it out together, sitting down, side by side. I started to unload the picnic basket in a semi-robotic haze. I caught a glimpse of Kandice, her beaming smile juxtaposed against the shadows on her stunning face. Happy and sad, all at once. Because of me.
"There's something I think we need to talk about," I said.
My phone rang. It was Mama.
"Have you heard the news? Gino, he wants to work at the Bruno lamp plant, he's even going to go for a weekend rehab retreat. Giovanni, there's even a girl he likes—that girl from the party—it's all coming together!"
"I know, Mama, and I’m so happy for him," I said. "But I am in the middle of something with Kandice."
"Well, tell her I said hello," she said brightly. "You two have a wonderful time."
I hung up to see Kandice eyeing me expectantly.
"It was Mama," I explained. "She just found out about Gino and the good news. He wants to work at the family plant and wants to do a weekend sobriety retreat."
"That's awesome," Kandice said, her look still expectant.
I paused. I'd been prepared to take on this conversation head-first. But looking at Kandice now… I wasn’t sure where to begin.
"What are you thinking?" She finally asked.
I answered without thinking. "I did this all to protect my family, but maybe I didn't need to."
The realization was a bit of a relief. Strange. To think that Gino got better all by himself, more or less.
"Looks like you can stop all this, then," she said in a cold voice, standing up.
I stood too.
"Kandice?"
"You know what?" she said. "I'm not feeling well. I think it's best if we go back."
"We just got here," I protested.
"And I just started feeling like I might throw up," she spat back.
Our glares dug into each other. It had to have been something I said. Something she misinterpreted. But I was tired of dealing with her moods.
"What do you want me to say?" I snapped.
"Nothing that you don't mean," Kandice said. "Because I think we both know that there's been an awful lot of that lately."
Her words hit me hard.
Maybe because she was right. I could have blurted
out that I loved her in the moment. I could have—but I doubted it. I’d never done anything like that before.
Fuck it.
I grabbed the picnic basket, the sharp edges of the wicker digging into my palm.
"Fine," I said. "You want to go? Let's go."
31
Kandice
We didn’t talk on the drive home.
It gave ample time for my thoughts to turn on themselves.
Why had I said that? Just because Giovanni had said that he didn’t need to didn't mean... Yes, it did. Who was I kidding?
This whole time, Giovanni had been the textbook definition of hot and cold. Now, even after blurting out that he apparently loved me and made plans to meet up tonight, he was still, surprise, surprise, hot and cold. Unsure.
I was through with it. Through with getting my heart and feelings tangled up in this mess. We were fake married. That was it. Giovanni could annul that, too, if he wanted so Gino could take over the family business someday. So freaking be it.
At least I was safe now. At least I had that.
Giovanni’s fingers tapped along to a pop song playing on the radio, as if daring me to comment. Well, fuck him.
I couldn't even believe, after everything—after planning a picnic, the party, the phone call… All of this, and his big epiphany was that, had he just waited, he could still be the same free man he’d been before.
Back at my hotel, I called Jen.
"Kandy, of course you can come over," she said. "You're lucky. It's good timing, too. Gino just dropped me off after our date!"
I hung up the phone, and with one frustrated swipe of my teary eyes, I headed over to my best friend’s.
No sooner was she opening her door than she was ushering me into her colorful apartment, blue eyes creased with concern. "Shit, Kandice. What's wrong?"
"Everything," I admitted. "You wouldn't believe what Giovanni said. I thought he had planned a nice date. We were going to spend some time together, then he basically said that we really had no reason to do this, since Gino is doing so well now."
Playing Pretend Box Set Page 36
