Always (8 page)

“What happened to her?”

“She died a few months ago, peacefully, at the convent.”

“That’s the convent in Italy you send money to?” Leave it to Grandpop to have these stories. Vincente didn’t. He hadn’t really lived, hadn’t experienced an overwhelming true love. He sat back and gripped the armrests of the chair.

“Yes, the sisters deserve support.” Grandpop rose and took his glass to the bar. He turned back to Vincente. “You take the ring,
nipote
. Never know when you might need it.”

Vincente narrowed his eyes at Grandpop, suspicious. “I’m not even seeing anyone.” He’d seen a lot of Gina. His body lightened, the aches soothed by the flash of Gina gazing up at him as they’d made love. Usually he’d call it sex, but with Gina, it was different.

“Love strikes when you least expect it.”

Vincente knew that. But sometimes love wasn’t enough. Sometimes, even when you loved someone, the relationship failed. He saw no reason it would be different with Gina. She didn’t like his family. She was a driven, hardened career woman. More power to her. But that’s not who he needed in his life, his family, his bed. He rocked his neck, the tension creeping back. The irrational, chaotic feeling he had wasn’t love. Love was steady, kind, grew over time.

“I’m not twenty anymore,” Vincente said. “I can see around those corners.”

Grandpop clapped him on the back and chuckled. “You’re in for it.” He shook his head and offered Vincente the ring again. “Humor me. Take the ring.”

Vincente shrugged. “Sure, I’ll keep it for you.”

“Good. Get back to work.”

“I will. But, I have a question first. Know anything about why there’d be a problem between Aunt Carolina and the D’Angelos?”

Grandpop pushed open the kitchen door. “Who said there was?”

“I hear things.” Vincente crossed his arms.

“Carolina is my only daughter—I love her. But she’s as ruthless as they come.” Grandpop waved a hand in dismissal and turned.

Vincente held the door open. “Meaning?” Vincente stood still, his stare boring into Grandpop’s back.

“We’re throwing Enzo and Celeste an engagement party this Saturday. You’re expected.”

Vincente gripped the door. So much for getting an answer from Grandpop. Or avoiding Gina. Maybe she wouldn’t show. He doubted her dad would. “Why a party? Aren’t they getting married in a couple weeks?”

“Not if Frank has anything to say about it. We need to do something to mollify them.”

“He probably won’t come.”

“Leave Saturday free. Starts at five.” Grandpop strode through to his bedroom door, on the far side of the room, shutting it behind him.

They never disturbed each other in their bedrooms—their sanctuaries. Neither of them ever even brought women there. Grandpop went out, or to the house in Carmel, while Vincente got a hotel room, or went to his date’s place…until Gina. He’d broken so many of his own rules for her, with her.

He clenched his jaw and slammed the door. Vincente was used to being focused, in control. Gina messed with his mind—with everything in him. He had five days, almost. He could work her out of his system—he just had to avoid her until Saturday. By then, he’d figure out what was going on, with himself. Maybe this thing with her had just happened to get him to realize he’d been deluding himself about why he wasn’t dating. Maybe wasn’t good enough. He liked surety.

Chapter Seven

Gina dried the last lunch dish her mom handed to her. Her father paced in the living room, his footsteps heavy and controlled. Gina hung the towel and faced the living room, crowded with furniture and knick-knacks.

“Frank, please sit,” Grandma Celeste said. She set down her knitting. “We’ll all talk now. Shouldn’t Michael be here?”

“I’m here, Gram,” Michael said as he jogged in the door. He pushed his brown hair off his forehead. Waving to their dad, he kissed Grandma. She patted his cheek.

Gina leaned on the doorframe, open between the kitchen and living room. She smoothed her skirt and tee shirt. Michael turned and spotted her.

“Hey, sis.” He smiled, walked over and hugged her. Gina patted his back, breaking the hug. He gave her his lopsided smile. He looked younger than twenty-two. But he acted older. He’d always been the reliable, cheerful one, people’s favorite—Gina’s too. There were good men in the world. She just hadn’t run across many outside her family.

Dad plopped into his favorite armchair. Gina followed Michael to the couch. Mom joined them, sandwiching Gina between her and Michael. Grandma took up her knitting again. The light from the window behind her shone around her silver hair like a halo. Gina wanted to go sit at her feet and hold her yarn for her, like she had when she was a little girl. But those days were gone. Soon Grandma would be gone from this house—nothing would ever be the same. Nothing ever was. Her throat constricted, the first signal of tears. Grandma leaving, getting married again…How was Gina going to find that childhood world that she longed for?

“Frank,” Mom said. Here it came—the bomb about the DeGrazias. And Gina didn’t even have any ammunition to shoot down the idea. “I know how you feel about the DeGrazias—”

Dad snorted. Grandma’s knitting needles clacked faster. Gina clasped her hands tightly.

“But, we’re all going to be family. We already are, really. Sophia has been married to Carlo thirty years—she’s a DeGrazia. So, our nephew Joey and niece Janetta are too, in a way. You’ve accepted all of them. Why can’t you accept Enzo?” Mom glanced from Dad to Grandma.

“Mom,” Dad said to Grandma. “Aren’t you going to speak for yourself? You three go, so I can talk to my mother.” He waved a hand at Mom, Gina, and Michael.

“Don’t you try to dismiss me, Frank,” Mom said.

Gina rubbed her mouth to keep her smile from showing. It was good to know Mom had grown a backbone with Dad. Dad crossed his arms and sat taller in the chair.

“Maybe you and I should speak alone, Frank” Mom continued.

“No, just go ahead,” Dad said. “If it concerns the store, like you said, it concerns us all. Wish you wouldn’t bring those damn DeGrazias into everything.”

“Francis Alfonso D’Angelo Junior!” Grandma said in a quiet, firm voice. She set aside her knitting. “If your father could hear you…It’s enough I do. I am marrying Enzo in less than three weeks, whether you like it or not. I had hoped you would see reason, at least, but I’ll pray for a miracle instead.”

“Me, see reason?” Dad ground out. He gritted his teeth. “You’re the one who doesn’t see—”

“Enzo is a good man,” Mom said. “He’s offered to give us the money to save the business.”

Dad sprang up. “At what price? I won’t have it!”

“Dad,” Michael said. “Let’s at least listen to any proposal he might have. Gina’s business plan is great, but even she admits we need an infusion of capital.”

“Doesn’t mean we need to get it from the DeGrazias,” Gina said. She wished she’d spent her time finding proof of the DeGrazias’ dirty money, instead of getting dirty with one of them.

“Where will we get it?” Mom said. She had a better head for finances than Dad. He was the people-person—at least for his customers—the hard worker.

Gina rubbed her forehead. No bank would give them a loan, again. The building was in danger of foreclosure. Gina’d already run through her list of contacts—no one would take the risk of investing in a small business that seemed to have had its heyday long ago. She’d even written a proposal to give to Uncle James, but Dad refused to let her send it.

Dad plopped back into the chair. “We could sell.”

Gina’s gut clenched. This place had been her family’s home, their business, part of them, since Grandpa Frank bought the building and opened the store over fifty years ago.

“No,” Grandma whispered. She set her knitting aside. “This was your father’s legacy to you, to Gina, Michael, and Frankie.”

“I love you, Mom,” Dad said. “But like I have no say in you marrying Enzo, you have no say in the business. Dad left it to me.”

“Frank,” Mom said. Disappointment singed through the one word.

Grandma rose, her posture even more upright than usual, her habitual smile gone, replaced with a grim, flat expression. Gina hopped up. This wasn’t what she wanted—her family torn further apart. She’d wanted them to unite again, against the DeGrazias. Her enemy seemed to be a mirage. She was the fool, tilting at windmills. The real enemy was their own stubbornness—hers and Dad’s—to accept help, to be open to possibilities.

“Grandma,” she said, reaching out for her.

Grandma waved a hand at her and swiftly walked from the room. Her door clicked shut, the lock turning into place. Only once before had Gina witnessed her Grandma like this, ten years before when all the problems had happened.

Gina edged out from behind the coffee table. “I won’t let you sell. This business is as much Michael’s and mine—”

“Not legally,” Dad said. “Michael makes a salary, and you offered to help. The business is mine to sell.” He stood, his shoulders hunched.

This couldn’t be what he wanted. But she knew he’d rather give up than give in to the DeGrazias.

“I can get the money,” Michael said.

They all turned to him.

“No,” Dad said. “I know where you’d get it.”

Michael hung his head. He’d go to Enzo DeGrazia, just like their brother Frank had gone to Enzo’s son Sal when he’d needed a job.

“Please, Frank,” Mom said. “Vittorio is giving Enzo and Celeste an engagement party this Saturday. We should all be there. Your mom deserves that much from us, for all the years she’s been here for us. She’s your mother, for heaven’s sake. Family—”

“That’s what I’m trying to save,” Dad said, his voice cracking on the last word. He turned and strode out the front door. Gone—just like before. At least Carolina DeGrazia wasn’t around for him to run to anymore.

Gina clutched her stomach. Like she’d run to Vincente last night. Oh, God, she was a traitor, a blind dupe, like her father had been. Like Carolina, maybe Vincente was waiting, biding his time for the opportune moment to blackmail her, make her sign away her integrity—what was left of it.

If she could get that security guy alone, he could probably tell her all about the DeGrazias. She knew how to get men to talk…She put her other hand over her mouth. Sick, that was wrong thinking. That wasn’t her. She’d felt most herself in those intimate moments with Vincente. Probably all lies—she didn’t know herself at all.

“Gina,” Mom said.

Gina shook her head and ran, following the path her father had gone. A few tears coursed down her cheeks as she shut the front door behind her. She needed to rediscover the truth about herself, and learn what was real. Her family going to church every Sunday, laughing together over Sunday dinner, working together in the market, her grandparents taking them to the park so Mom and Dad could have a date…Those always-abiding things—love, faith—her family had taught her, what they used to believe in.

***

Gina walked aimlessly. She’d forgotten her purse, so she couldn’t do anything but window shop, walk, and think. As she approached the Financial District, the TransAmerica pyramid looming in the distance, she turned to head back toward home. Her feet ached in her cream-colored wedge sandals. She wasn’t used to so much walking anymore—in L.A., people drove everywhere. The only walking she’d done had been barefoot on the beach. What she needed was a wardrobe change.

A familiar-looking man walked out from the building ahead of her. Just when she was thinking of wardrobes…

“Paolo!” Gina called, surprised by the excitement in her tone. Her cousin Janetta’s best friend since high school, Paolo had won Gina’s affection with his quick wit and willingness to make over her awkward thirteen-year-old self. He’d kept it with his wisdom, loyalty, and kindness. He turned and scanned the sidewalk.

Gina smiled and strode to him. She did a little model turn.

“Oh my God, Gina D’Angelo!” He pulled her into a hug then held her at arm’s length. “I see you’re still following my fashion advice.” He smiled, his thin face as animated as his waving hands. “At least someone in your family still listens to me.” He winked.

Gina laughed. “And look at you—still fabulous.” He was rocking an Armani suit. “What are you doing down here? Don’t you still work at Nordstrom?”

“Uh-huh. I met Janetta for lunch. She works in an office here.”

Paolo knew almost all their family secrets. Probably he knew the DeGrazias’ secrets too. Gina slid her arm into his. They strolled forward.

“You must know the DeGrazias pretty well.”

He eyed her. “I do. And between your family and theirs, I’ve seen more drama than on
General Hospital
. My family is positively boring in comparison.” He chuckled.

“So, are they all Sonny Corinthos, or Jasper Jax?” She tried to sound teasing by mentioning the characters they’d drooled over in high school, one a mobster, the other an upstanding businessman, but she needed to know—were the DeGrazias corrupt, or not?

“Nothing is simple.” Paolo stopped, edging them out of the middle of the sidewalk. “Even those characters have shades of grey. From what I know, their businesses are all legit. And they’re good people. Why? What’s going on?”

Gina blew out a breath. Paolo she could trust. He was like a member of the family, had been for probably fifteen years now. And he had no hidden agendas. Gina reached down to fiddle with her sandal strap.

“How long have you been walking in those?”

Gina straightened and glanced at her watch. “Almost an hour.”

“You come back to my office.” He pulled her forward. “We’ll talk, and then we can consult on the latest fashions.”

“You know how to treat a girl.” Gina kissed his cheek.

He laughed. “’Cause we have so much in common.” He winked and flagged a cab.

They hopped in. Gina relaxed in the seat. This would be a conversation to look forward to.

***

Gina crossed her legs, settled in one of the sleek chairs across from Paolo’s desk. Paolo was wrapping up a phone call that had come in once they’d reached his office. His focus and sharp business acumen had helped him reach the top of his profession at only thirty—and he’d managed to get his M.B.A. as well.

Gina admired that kind of drive. She’d tried to emulate it, in her career and personal life. But it hadn’t worked for her. She lacked Paolo’s balance, his wisdom too, probably. Now she was more interested in her family’s business and getting to a place where she could start her own family than in rising in the corporate world.

Paolo hung up the phone. He stood and held out a hand, motioning her to the couch opposite his desk. A glass and metal coffee table, loaded with magazines, was in front of the cushy, yet modern, sofa. Gina rose and joined him. She slid off her shoes and tucked her feet under her. Paolo crossed his legs and faced her.

“Okay, spill it, Miss Thang.”

“Basically, my dad and I don’t trust the DeGrazias.”

“Nothing new there. Though I know I’m missing part of the puzzle.” He scrutinized her, as only Paolo could.

“I think they’re trying to hijack my family—and our business.” Gina’s ears burned as the words came out of her mouth. Her anger wasn’t as fierce anymore, and she’d begun questioning whether her plans were going to get her what she really wanted: to save her family business, and by extension, her family.

Paolo shook his head. “Aww, honey, they aren’t. First, it’s not like they need the money, or another business to run. And haven’t you seen Enzo and Celeste? He worships the ground she walks on. She loves him, but she knows him, and she’d spot any b.s. from around the corner. As for the rest of them…Vincente’s got his grandpop on the right path now—I’d stake my rep on it.”