Chapter Nineteen
Julia was walking back from the powder room when a smiling pregnant woman who didn’t waste time with small talk hijacked her with a warm hug. “Maddy.”
Maddy didn’t let go as she said, “Luke was telling me how good he thinks you are for Gio. I thought the same thing when I first met you, but when you went sliding down the stairs together—I saw Gio laugh. I love you.”
Okay, this is awkward. Julia gave her back a quick pat and coughed. “You’re choking me.”
With a light, embarrassed chuckle, Maddy released her. “I’m sorry. My emotions are all over the place. I’m just happy for you and Gio.” A big smile spread across her face. “And a little envious. I remember what it was like to not be able to keep my hands off Richard. It’s still good, but children make it more difficult to sneak off together.”
Julia coughed again, and her face warmed with a blush. “Could we forget about earlier?” A sudden thought came to her as she remembered what Alessandro had said about his daughter. “You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”
It was Maddy’s turn to blush. “No one who would say anything. Don’t worry.”
Julia covered her eyes with one hand. Every floor should have an escape option. You click your heels twice and it swallows the mortified up, depositing them . . . where didn’t matter . . . as long as it was far away.
In a moment of self-awareness, Maddy put a sympathetic hand on Julia’s shoulder and said, “I know my family is a bit much to get used to, but we don’t get involved unless we care.”
Julia lowered her hand. “No, I’m sorry. My head is still spinning from all of this. Sometimes it feels like I’ve walked into a dream—a magical, beautiful world. Then I remind myself that dreams are something you wake up from.” She met Maddy’s eyes seriously. “I don’t want to wake up.”
Maddy hugged her again, but this time quickly. “Maybe you won’t have to. Come on, there are a few more people I’d like to introduce you to before you go back to your date.” After taking two steps, she stopped again and said, “Speaking of you and Gio, my father doesn’t approve of you sharing a room. I tried to explain to him that you’re in the stage of your relationship where really it would be best for everyone if you have one, but he’s old-fashioned.”
Julia’s eyebrows rose. “You talked to him about me? About Gio? About me and Gio?”
Maddy started walking again in a rush. “I couldn’t help it. He gave me that sad look and I cracked. It’s some kind of parental mind control.”
Julia kept pace with Maddy, but she was thinking back to her earlier conversation with Alessandro and wondered if he’d known then. “I can’t believe you told your father.”
“He won’t say anything. Don’t worry. He likes you.”
* * *
Alessandro closed the door of the ultramodern bookless library he’d invited Gio into.
He waved for Gio to come farther inside. “It’s good to see you smiling.”
For just a moment, Gio clung to the uncomplicated happiness he’d found with Julia within the chaotic Andrade celebration. He’d always thought of himself as a man who had no patience for children. However, when he’d reached the bottom of the slide the first time he’d found himself eye level with a clapping little girl dressed in a frock that made her look like a doll. “You’re fast!”
“Higher mass objects have higher force on an incline plane,” he had explained as he stood up.
Julia had taken the hand he offered her and bent down to explain to the girl, “We’re bigger than you, so we go faster.”
“Would I go fast if I went with you?”
Gio had looked around for the girl’s mother. “Oh, I don’t think that would be a good . . .”
“I bet you would,” Julia had said as if he hadn’t spoken, and offered her other hand to the little girl. “Let’s try it. My name is Julia.”
Big brown eyes had studied both of them. Then she’d taken Julia’s hand. “I’m Anna. I’m one of the flower girls tomorrow. I get a basket and roses and a big pink dress. I picked the dress myself because I’m all grown up now. I pick my own clothes. I can’t tie shoes yet, but we use Velcro. My brother knows how to tie shoes. He’s eight. But he isn’t a flower girl. He’s a boy. And he doesn’t get a dress because boys don’t wear dresses. My dress is pink. Nicole said I could pick whatever color I wanted because I’m important in the wedding. I carry the flowers. And I picked pink because princesses wear pink.” She’d stopped halfway up the stairs and directed a question to Gio. “Do you like this dress? It’s pink, too.”
She’d spun in front of him in her satin dress and stumbled, falling down a stair. Gio had caught the girl and steadied her. He hadn’t realized he was scowling down at her until she touched the middle of her forehead and said, “You shouldn’t frown like that. It gives you a wrinkle right here. And you’re old. Wrinkles stay on old people. Are you my cousin Gio?”
Gio had opened his mouth to answer, but the little girl was already speaking again. “My mom told me to stay out of his way. She said he can be grumpy, but you’re not grumpy, so you can’t be him.” She’d spun and started up the stairs again. “Come on, slowpokes. Mom said I can go down the slide five times. Does this count? I’m sharing it with you. I don’t think it counts. She told me five times and then I have to go upstairs to bed. So, tell her it doesn’t count. I don’t want to go to bed yet. This party is fun. Isn’t it fun?”
When the little girl sprinted ahead, Gio had growled into Julia’s ear, “She was cute before she started talking.”
Julia had joked, “She’s not so bad. She’s just excited. Come on—smile. You don’t want to give yourself a wrinkle. I hear they stay on old people.”
“Old, huh? You’ll pay for that tonight.”
After stealing a quick kiss, Julia had laughed and sprinted up the stairs, saying, “I certainly hope so.”
The memory of the entire exchange brought an involuntary smile to Gio’s face.
Alessandro cleared his throat loudly, bringing Gio back to the present. “Have you been drinking, Gio?”
“No,” he said curtly, but he could understand the question. He wasn’t acting like himself. He didn’t feel like himself. For once, he felt like the past didn’t need to have a stranglehold on him. He could make amends. He could be free.
Alessandro took a seat on one of the couches. “Please, sit.”
Gio shook his head and remained standing. “I’d rather stand. What did you need to talk to me about?”
“You know we’re happy to have you here, Gio.”
Never one who had been open with his emotions, Gio merely pocketed his hands and waited. He doubted Alessandro had pulled him aside simply to express that sentiment.
His uncle walked over to the window and said, “Tomorrow Dominic Corisi will present the Isola Santos deed to Stephan and Nicole. Will that be a problem?”
There it was. The reason for their meeting.
Gio straightened to his full height. “What are you asking?”
“I always thought you weren’t interested in the island or the old house.” When Gio said nothing, Alessandro pushed. “But you were, weren’t you?”
“I would not have offered to purchase it had I not been,” Gio bit out.
“Purchase? Your mother returned the deed to me. It was in your father’s possession. Why would you offer to buy something that was already yours?”
Just as his mother had predicted, his uncle wanted to turn him against her. “My mother said she never had the deed.”
Alessandro pinched the bridge of his nose. “She lied. She returned it to us a few weeks after your father died. She said you had all discussed it and decided that owning it would bring back too many bad memories. I believed her. Especially considering the circumstances of your father’s death.”
Confusion and anger swirled within Gio.
Someone had lied.
He didn’t yet know who.
“I see.” But he didn’t. Nothing made sense to him anymore. He had next to no connection to his uncle anymore. Why this intricate cover-up story?
Alessandro appeared genuinely distressed. “We never would have sold the island if we had known you wanted it.”
Uncovering one lie only revealed more. “You expect me to believe that?”
Affronted, Alessandro rose to his full height and said, “You’re family, for God’s sake.”
Family. He was beginning to hate that term. “That label doesn’t mean as much to me as it once did.”
Alessandro reached out as if he were going to put a hand on Gio’s shoulder in support, then let his hand drop to his side.
He’d come for answers, but he was leaving with more questions. If his uncles were as cold and conniving as he’d been raised to believe they were, why were they making such a production out of pretending to care about him now?
Was this why the invitation scared his mother? She’d even gone so far as trying to pay off Julia—why? Did she think it would stop him from coming here?
“I should have spoken directly to you and your brothers. Patrice asked us not to talk to you about it. She said it was too upsetting for you.”
Gio spun on his heel and walked to the door, then stopped and, without turning, asked, “Alessandro, did you know about my father? About Venice?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you think we deserved to know?”
“It was not my place to say anything.”
Gio nodded once, a cold fury filling him.
Behind him, his uncle called out, “Gio, where are you going?”
With his hand on the door handle, Gio spoke without turning. “There is nothing here for me now.”
His uncle spoke softly. “What would you have me do?”
“What you have always done for me—nothing.” Gio walked out the door and closed it firmly behind him.