by Ciara Cole
“That,” she tightened her legs around his waist until he fell on her, his heavy weight causing ripples of sensual pleasure to roll over her, “was almost better than dinner.”
Smiling, Giovanni kissed her until she began to respond and he was already hard again. “Then it’s a good thing,” he moved his hips in a circular motion so his short hard thrusts hit her where she still throbbed, “dessert isn’t over yet.” He kept up the move, loving the way she looked with her mouth open and eyes closed, a fine sheen of moisture coating her cocoa skin. Sucking on the rapidly beating pulse at the base of her throat while he worked her body, Giovanni felt a rush of moisture as she fell apart again. “You are the sexiest thing, Talia. I swear.”
She gave him a lazy, sleepy smile. “Right back at ya, big guy.” She’d never been so satisfied in her life and quickly, sleep claimed her, right there on the dinner table.
Chapter Six
Pregnant. The word swirled inside of Talia’s head until it was a full blown tornado, category 5. All thoughts of what she needed to do—write a first full draft of her profile on Giovanni, finish up several reviews, pay bills—got caught up in the fiery twister until she could focus on nothing else. So she’d slid her feet into a pair of sneakers, wrapped up to keep warm and hit the all night drugstore a few blocks from home.
It was late but there were quite a few people milling about, but it was New York so she wasn’t at all phased by the need to get nail polish, window cleaner, condoms or candy at midnight. She ignored them all and made a path to the section she needed. She laughed at she looked around, condoms, pregnancy tests and diapers were all in the same place. Passing the old school tests altogether, Talia grabbed four different digital tests. This way there will be no confusion. Pregnant or not pregnant. The last thing she needed was to spend the night trying to figure out if pregnant was pink or blue, one line or two, plus or minus. Taking her boxes, a few bags of chocolate candy and hot pink nail polish and Talia was checking out and trudging the path back to her apartment.
She’d taken every single test—eight in all—and they all gave her a one word answer. Pregnant. The word kept playing in her head like a bad pop song as she sat in the silent exam room waiting for her doctor. It was all a big mistake, a misunderstanding. She knew it. The doctor would come in and tell her she had some type of hormone imbalance causing her to have a false positive pregnancy test. Any of those were possibilities and Talia hung on to them like a lifeline.
It was ridiculous really. As hard as she fought to get away from the life, from the neighborhood she’d grown up in, she was right back where she started. Single and pregnant. The plan had always been to find a man who would make a good father and family man, date for a year maybe two and get engaged for another year before getting married. Kids would come—two or three of them—during the first five years so she wouldn’t have to take too much time away from her career. Now here she was, holding her breath in a paper own like an irresponsible teenager. “Just great,” he groaned, eyes steadfastly avoiding the giant pregnancy diagram on the wall.
“Ms. Mathers, it’s good to see you again.” Dr. Stephens entered the room with a warm smile and her ever present tablet cradled in her arm.
“You too, Doc. Give it to me lightly,” she joked with the woman who’d been responsible for her reproductive health since the first job she’d had with health insurance.
After a few swipes, Dr. Stephens spoke. “It looks like you’re about eight weeks pregnant. Congratulations,” she beamed.
Talia felt the blood drain from her face, maybe even her whole body. “P-p-pregnant?”
“Yep.” Her smile dimmed. “I take it this was unplanned.”
She nodded. “The condom broke.” She hung her head low, ashamed to give such a pitiful excuse.
“It happens, Talia. Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
Her heart squeezed as she realized she’d never considered any other option. “I’m keeping it.”
Please with her answer, Dr. Stephens smiled. “In that case, swing those legs around and we’ll take a look.”
Talia’s eyes widened. “Isn’t it a little early for all that?”
The doctor chuckled and patted her shoulder before moving to the foot of the paper covered bed. “We’re not going to know the gender or anything, probably. This is just to check that everything is alright with the little one.”
“Oh. Okay.” Her shoulders relaxed and her feet slid into the dreaded stirrups. “I’m ready,” she sighed.
“This is a surface exam, Talia. No internal probing today.”
“Thank god,” she said, a little too eagerly, making the doctor chuckle. A few moments later with a belly full of sticky blue gel, the white wand rolled over her still flat tummy. “Is everything alright.”
“It’s a little blurry but it looks like you and baby are healthy. I’d like you to come back in six weeks for another exam.”
Talia sat up, forehead creased with worry. “Something’s wrong isn’t it? Just tell me, Doc, I can handle it.”
Dr. Stephens patted her knee gently and gave her a comforting smile. “It’s customary during pregnancy to visit every four to six weeks, more if it’s a difficult pregnancy.” Talia watched as she began to write furiously on her pad before ripping two sheets off and handing them to her. “Prenatal vitamins. They’re essential for a healthy, growing baby. Take them everyday without fail and call me if you have any questions.”
“Okay.” She hated that her voice sounded so small, so uncertain. She wasn’t a meek woman, nor was she weak. She was a career woman who was respected in her field, could make or break a career with one swipe of her pen. She didn’t get all shaken up over prenatal vitamins and a growing child. “Thank you, Dr. Stephens.”
“You’re welcome, dear. See you soon.”
“Well now what the hell am I gonna do?” There were no answers inside the empty room so she washed her belly, put her clothes back on and left, making an appointment before leaving the office.
Outside the day was sunny and cool, a sign that autumn was well and truly on her way to the city. It was too chilly to sit outside but Talia needed to clear her mind so she ducked inside a greasy spoon diner and enjoyed a fat stack of buttermilk pancakes and fresh pressed apple juice. Sipping the juice and staring out the window, her thoughts began to race. Would she be able to be a good mother and give her child the love and stability she’d been denied as a child?
From the time she was six or seven she’d had to fend for herself, knowing that if she didn’t wash the few items of clothing she owned in the sink ahead of time, she’d have to wear dirty or wet clothes to school. By the time she was ten, Talia had begun to steal money from the coffee pot her parents kept in the freezer so she would always have something to eat. Cooking and cleaning were things she did, not because she wanted her parents to notice her, because they wouldn’t. She did it because if she didn’t she would have to go hungry and live in squalor while they were off getting high. Sometimes they would bring the party to their tiny, two bedroom apartment and when that happened, Talia pushed her bed against the door to ensure no unwanted visitors came to her bed. Again.
When she was fifteen she’d had enough. She’d come home one day from school and found both of her parents passed out on the sofa, a collection of friends in various states of high lying on the floor, the kitchen table, coffee table and bathtub. When she’d found the tattooed guy passed out in her bed she’d pushed him awake and he’d pulled her down on top of him. She’d kicked and scratched at his clawing hands as that grabbed her already plump breasts and cupped her between her legs. She’d smashed a lamp against his head, knocking him out long enough for her to pack her bags and leave. For good. She hadn’t looked back, not giving a damn about the two people who would allow her to get attacked in her own home. Not saying another word to her parents who cared more about getting high than raising their daughter.
She brushed a tear from the corner of her eye as the wait
ress slid the pancakes in front of her. She hadn’t seen or spoken to her parents since that day. She’d spent the rest of her junior and senior year couch surfing before it became cool, finally earning a scholarship to college. Her lottery ticket out of the shithole her life had been until that point.
Talia rubbed her stomach. “Don’t worry baby, your life will be much better than anything I ever had. Mommy promises.”
~
“I need a Bolognese plated for four, two servings of lasagna and a single carbonara.” The newest waitress barked her order over the raucous kitchen, brimming with activity on Friday night.
Giovanni smiled as he dropped the pasta in the near constantly boiling water. He served his Bolognese separately, finding that some people preferred heaps of sauce while others liked just enough to coat the noodles. Service had been smooth all night but he refused to think about it or say it aloud, a strict follower of professional kitchen superstition that talking about how well things were going was a guaranteed way to make it all change. So he enjoyed the kitchen dance of bodies swirling around one another, chopping, plating , cleaning and sautéing. It was what he most loved about working in the kitchen.
The review of The Family Table had been published online and in the magazine a week ago, and he’d had a full booking every night since. A booked restaurant was what every owner and chef dreamed of, it meant a lot of people liked the way they made food. But it also meant early mornings to make sure you got enough high quality ingredients to keep the customers happy. He’d been so busy that he’d only seen Talia briefly in the past ten days. A quick meet for coffee one day and she’d brought deli sandwiches to him at the restaurant another. It was frustrating as hell and dammit, he missed her.
Midnight gnocchi had gone much better than he’d anticipated. Talia had captured his interest in every way imaginable. She was gorgeous with intelligent eyes, her curvy body fit his perfectly and her husky laugh made him smile at just the memory of it. But he liked talking to her, especially about food. She was as passionate as he was, and watching her eat was pure erotic torture. He liked her. Genuinely liked her, all of her.
“Hey Romeo, your noodles are getting soggy!” Penny’s voice brought him out of his Talia induced haze.
“Shit.” He’d grabbed them just in time, but they weren’t quite al dente and he needed to drop another batch. “Sorry about that. Another bowl coming up.”
“I’ll grab the noodles, you go make the rounds in the dining room.”
Untying his apron with a groan, Giovanni knew she was right. He needed to show his face because he was the face and the taste of The Family Table. “Yeah, yeah. I’m going.” He washed his hand and glued on a smile before stepping into the dining room to greet the diners. There were five tables of regulars whom he greeted first. They ate a lot, drank a lot and generally closed the place down, and Giovanni was grateful. “I have a brand new tiramisu you guys have to try, I’ll send a few pieces out with your dessert.”
There were a few couples, whom he greeted quietly and quickly, unwilling to disturb a romantic evening. When he made to the back of the dining room, all the blood drained from his face. Seated at table twenty seven was five members of the Tucci crime family. None of them were actually Tucci family members, but they did plenty of dirt using the family name. “Hey fellas, what are you doing here?” He knew his clenched jaw and less than happy demeanor wouldn’t escape them.
“We’re here for dinner. You not happy to see us, Gio?”
He said nothing for fear of nearby customers overhearing him but his clenched jaw told Enzo everything he needed to know. “Enjoy your meal,” he said and sauntered off, making a mental note to call Giancarlo.
“Hey what are you guys doing here?” Tucked away in a romantic little corner he’d spotted Tiana and his cousin, Antonio.
“It’s called a date, Gio.” Tiana looked up at him with laughing eyes.
He looked from one to the other, a smile crossing his face. “I’ll send over a bottle of something good.” He smiled again, knowing this juicy bit of gossip was the perfect excuse to call Talia. Not that he needed an excuse, other than he missed her. But he had more important matters to settle at the moment. Marching to his office, he closed and locked the door, pulling a new burner phone from the safe and dialing the last person he wanted to talk to.
“Uncle Vincenzo why are your goons eating at my restaurant, again? We had an agreement.”
There was a long coughing session followed by silence, then his uncle’s voice. “It’s good to hear your voice, Gio.”
He sighed. “It’s good to hear you too, Uncle. You sound well.” As much as he hated Vincenzo for using him, he loved his uncle dearly.
“Eh, I’m getting old and falling apart.”
They’d been having this conversation forever. “You said that before you had any grey in your hair,” he laughed at the memory of his relationship with Vincenzo before everything went sideways.
“It gets truer every day, my boy. So my boys are there?”
“Yes. I thought we cleared this up with Cristo, a few weeks ago. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that he shows up and days later two detectives are at my door.” He heard the silence and he knew what it meant. Someone would be on the wrong end of his fury later. “I have no clue what they’re talking about but I threatened to sue if they continued to slander my name and my brand.”
“Shit. Gio, I’m sorry.”
He believed him for some reason, but he wasn’t the same naïve boy with dreams of boxing that Vincenzo had taken advantage of years ago. “So his visit wasn’t to make sure I remembered to keep my mouth shut?”
“I think you know I would deliver a message like that to you, in person.”
Giovanni sagged in his chair, knowing the truth of his Uncle’s words. “I do, but I had to check.” He just wanted it all to be over, but he had a feeling it would get worse before it got better. “You take care of yourself, Uncle Vincenzo. I need to get back in the kitchen.”
He coughed again for a long minute. “You too, Gio. I’m proud of you.” He disconnected the call after that.
When Giovanni went back into the dining room, the table in back was empty. His shoulders fell in relief and he took a seat at the bar when his phone began to buzz in his pocket. He smiled at the name on the display. “Hey babe, I was just thinking about you.”
“What were you thinking?”
He loved the sound of her voice, it made him think of the sexy cries she made when he loved her body. “About tasting your mouth and sinking deep into your body.”
Talia sighed. “I need to talk to you about something, if you’re game after that I’m in.”
That sounded ominous. “Uh, yeah okay. I’ll come over after the dinner rush, around ten?”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
He stared at the phone after it disconnected, trying to figure out what was up with her. Had he made a mistake or pissed her off? He didn’t like her subdued tone because it meant something was up. She better not be trying to break up with him because that was not happening.
~
“What did you do?” Talia looked at the large bouquet of flowers suspiciously.
Giovanni frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You brought me flowers so you must have screwed up somehow, right?” Biting the inside of her jaws to stop the laughter from bubbling over, she stared intently.
“Uh, I don’t think I’ve screwed up. I mean we’ve both been busy and I wish we’d had more time together over the past couple weeks, but I brought you flowers because I thought they’d make you smile.” He stepped closer, “I love to see you smile.”
Damn this charming man and his smooth words. “Well I do love the flowers,” she took them from his hand and buried her face in them, inhaling the sweet scent. “Come on in.”
He froze. “Am I in trouble?”
She giggled. Her, Talia Mathers, giggled. She really must be out of her mind. “Should you be in
trouble?”
“No.”
His fierce look made her laugh again. “Okay then.” She guided him to the kitchen so she could take care of the flowers. When that was done she turned to him. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes. Something strong.”
It really was funny, how worried Giovanni was and if she wasn’t just as nervous she would laugh. But she knew he had a good reason to worry, so she would pour him a stiff drink and give it to him straight. “Alright I have your drink. If you want it, follow me.” Talia sucked in several long breaths and slowly released them. She’d had almost two weeks to get used to the idea that she was having a baby. They were having a baby. Together. Well, probably not together, she amended. She’d already decided that she would be a single mother and raise the child on her own. Giovanni didn’t want commitment and babies were the definition of commitment, so she would give him an easy out. She hated that the idea of saying goodbye to Giovanni made her stomach turn over, but she had someone else to think about now. Talia set the drink down and folded her body into the corner of the sofa.
“What’s wrong, Talia? Tell me you’re alright.”
Could this man be any sweeter? “I’m alright. Mostly.”
“Mostly? What the hell does that mean? Are you okay, do you need to see a specialist? I have a ton of money and I’ll whatever it takes to help.”
His green eyes were wild like the dark forest as he bombarded her with questions. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore, she leaned over and placed a hand on his thigh. “Giovanni, stop. I’m not sick or dying, I swear.”
He relaxed into the sofa, knocking back half the whiskey she’d poured for him. “Oh thank goodness.” He froze and turned to her. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“I didn’t know…never mind. No Giovanni I am not breaking up with you.” I am about to change your life forever though.
