Chapter 13
GIANA
We pass multiple offices,and I read the signs on the doors in my head as we walk. Director of Mental Health and Wellness. Team Nutrition Manager. Director of Legal Operations. Accountancy. Security. Director of Information Technology. Human Resources Manager. Chief Executive Officer. General Manager. Assistant Coach. Coach. Chief Financial Officer. We stop outside the door labeled Owner.
Byron knocks, and Charlotte opens the door.
“Byron. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I was hoping you could show Giana around.”
I step out from behind Byron and give a small wave. “Hi.”
Did he really need to bring me here? It’s been years since I have seen Charlotte. She is blonder than before but with the same blue eyes as Byron. She wears a classic navy suit jacket and pencil skirt to match. Her heels match too, and she looks every part the businesswoman and not the teenager I remember, who loved her tiny denim shorts.
“Gigi,” she says affectionately, coming in for a hug. “It’s been a while.”
“It has. You’ve grown up,” I say and laugh, not knowing how to explain how quickly the years have passed.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up.” Byron kisses my cheek. “See you after the game.”
Watching his sexy ass as he strides away could be my new favorite pastime. My man looks damn fine in a suit.
“You look beautiful,” Charlotte says, distracting me. “And you’ve barely changed.”
I laugh once, knowing her kind words are not true. “While I recognize the Lottie I used to know, I now see a professional businesswoman.”
Charlotte closes the door behind me. “Thank you. Sometimes, I think Byron still sees his little sister. If I point out something he disagrees with, he retaliates like he would if we were home bickering like teenagers.” She points to a lounge chair by a coffee table. “Take a seat.”
“Oh, I don’t want to keep you from your work. Honestly, I could have found my way around and am rather embarrassed Byron brought me up here to be babysat.”
Charlotte grins. “If I know my brother, you’re here so other guys aren’t looking at you.” She opens a cupboard door that reveals a hidden refrigerator. “Champagne?”
“God, yes. Thank you.” I take a moment to look around Charlotte’s office. There are three office desks, a lounge area, and a massive bookcase. Trophies don each shelf, and on the walls are framed jerseys of, I assume, famous players. “I don’t think Byron is the possessive type.”
“Are we talking about the same Byron Hendricks?” She grins as she hands me a crystal flute.
I laugh. “Oh, I know how particular he is about everything, but we’re not at that stage where I’m his, nor will we ever be. I’ve always considered a relationship to be a partnership.”
Charlotte clinks her glass with mine. “I agree.”
I take a sip. It tastes expensive. I take another sip and another. “Is there anyone special in your life?”
Charlotte runs her finger along the outside of the crystal. Her expression is pensive, as though she is considering her words. “There is, but we’re not official if you know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“We’ve been seeing each other on and off for a few years, but we’ve never been exclusive until recently. Now I’m ready, but I sense he’s not ready to put that label on our relationship. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with me but more about other people knowing our business.”
“Ah.”
She toys with her long, blonde ponytail. “We’re happy, so it shouldn’t matter what other people think, right?” Her eyes scan mine as though she seeks understanding.
“It shouldn’t, yet we all seem to allow others’ opinions to control us in some form.”
“What about you and Byron? Do you see a future together?”
Oh. I take another sip and allow the cool liquid to ease my throat. “It’s too early to make assumptions. We’re barely past being friends again.” Charlotte’s eyebrows rise. Has Byron told her otherwise? “While I’m home for a while to be with family, I’m also not sure if my career will lead me back to Italy.”
Charlotte beams her big smile at me. “I did hear about your art and fashion and how famous you are now. Actually, I was told by a certain someone to purchase every past issue of Vogue that features you.”
I look away as heat travels to my face. “He didn’t?”
“He did. He’s very proud of you.”
I take another sip. “I didn’t realize he’d asked you to do that?”
Charlotte shakes her head. “While I enjoy helping him with certain requests, he often acts like I’m his PA. He’s always had a little sister who will get things done for him. But now, there is a whole team that needs shit done. And yes, we have people employed for these roles, but the guys like to ask me because apparently, I’m like a little sister to all of them.”
“All of them?” I say, exasperated for her.
“Well, not all of them…” She laughs. “If you get what I mean.”
I laugh with her but don’t get it unless she means there are players she has hooked up with. Of course she has. What am I thinking?
Charlotte drains her glass. “Come.” She stands and refills our glasses before leading me to a glass window that overlooks the court. I stand alongside her, watching the players warm up.
This is not an official game, and yet a crowd is starting to fill the lower stands. I find Byron and watch him dribble and dunk the ball through the hoop.
She eyes him over the rim of her glass. “He’ll pull out all his best moves tonight to impress you,” she says, her tone flat.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No, but he should stick with the coach’s plan and not show off. The rookies are waiting for an opportunity to snatch his spot, and as much as I want what’s best for the team, I want what’s best for my brother first and foremost. He is our family’s priority.”
“Did your father buy the team for Byron?”
She spins to face me, her brow heavy over blue eyes. “Who told you that?”
“No one, but Byron mentioned it was a rumor.”
Her expression softens, and she takes another sip of her champagne. “Byron was always going to play in the NBA. He’s really that good. While his determination equals his talent, my father was gutted he didn’t want to continue in business to add millions to the billions my father already owns.” She rolls her eyes. “Byron was never going to forgo his basketball dream, so my father decided the family could also profit from the sport rather than Byron earning a fortune for himself.”
“I remember Byron telling me about his father’s plans for him when we were in high school. Recently, I learned he wanted to study robotics.”
“He did?” Charlotte asks. I nod. “It does not surprise me. He was always intelligent. I didn’t get Frank’s or Byron’s mathematical brain. Like Jobe, I’m diligent and will work toward setting up a future in a business that is right for me.”
“Is the team your future?”
Her expression changes to contentment. “It is. One day, I hope all this will be mine.”
The way she says it, I believe her.
“My father is rarely, here and he trusts me to handle the organization’s business.”
I don’t miss the passion in her voice. I glance down to the court, and Byron looks up and sees me at the window with Charlotte. He grins before receiving a pass and then setting up a play for Brandon to score.
“BJ appears to be a good friend.”
“He is. They met in college, and he’s been part of the family ever since.” There’s an affectionate sound in her tone. While her family may have welcomed the Aussie into their lives, I’m curious if Brandon is more to her and possibly one of the not all of them she referenced earlier. I track her gaze to Brandon. She watches him closely, even though he doesn’t have the ball in his hands.
“Do you think Brandon will return to Australia when he retires from the NBA?” The way Charlotte’s eyes round and her lips part, I think I’ve managed to surprise her.
“His retirement plan has never come up in our conversations. I hope he plays out his days with our team, but if he sees the need to go elsewhere, or even to Europe, I guess we can’t stop him.” Her voice fades with the last words. “There was talk of him returning to Australia for a few months next year if he makes the Olympic basketball squad. While we’ll miss him during that time, I would also be extremely proud of BJ. None of our other players have made the USA squad, so it would be great recognition for our team.”
All her talk of the team and what might be best for it is evident when it comes to Byron, and I suspect Brandon too. Secretly, I imagine her loyalties will always lie with them first.
“We should head down and take our seats. It’s getting close to tip-off.”
I take my handbag from the table and follow Charlotte to the elevator. “Are any of your family coming tonight?” I ask when the double doors close.
“No. They rarely come for the preseason games and never for internal games.”
I don’t pry further. I’m relieved not to be seeing the rest of the family tonight.
Charlotte leads me along what appears to be a hallway for the VIPs until we come out of a door near the tunnel leading to the locker room in one direction and the court in the other. We walk courtside, so close to the players now huddled around the coach, and take a seat in the third row behind the players’ bench in the stands.
I only have eyes for Byron, watching his intense expression as he listens to the coach. His brow is heavy, and he nods several times while the coach speaks. The intensity in his eyes almost steals my breath, and I wonder if it deepens when it’s a season game. Or is his concentration always like this? I expect the latter, as I have always known his extreme passion for the game.
The players place their hands in the center of the huddle and shout something before breaking apart. Byron bounces up and down on the spot, and his eyes find mine. He jogs to the stairs, takes all three in almost one leap, then leans in and kisses me quickly on the lips. It takes me by surprise.
“Wish me luck?” he says with a grin.
“Good luck,” I whisper.
He jumps down to the court and runs into position.
Charlotte stares at me. “He has never done that.”
“What?”
“He has never brought a girl to the game to watch him, and he kissed you. Byron never deviates from his routine. They’re all superstitious about their pregame routines.”
“Oh.” I smile at her. “I like that I’m the first he’s kissed before a game.”
“You know how I mentioned superstition? Like, they eat the same thing for breakfast, wear the same underwear, say the same chant in their heads before every game. If he plays well tonight, he’ll take that kiss as something he needs to do before every game.” What? “He’ll want you here every home game, in this same seat, so he can kiss you before tip-off.” I look over to see if she’s joking, but Charlotte is serious.
“I’m not sure that’s possible.”
“Then pray he plays less than his best tonight.”
Byron didn’t play bad. In fact, he played outstanding, and as Charlotte predicted, he did all the fancy tricks for me. Brandon and Byron proved why they are the team’s best guards and not to mess with them. Even from my inexperience, I could tell how well the two work together, as though they know the other’s thoughts.
After the game, Charlotte and I wait outsider the locker room.
“What are your plans tonight?” she asks.
“I hope we’re heading out for pizza. What about you?”
“Who is we?”
“Byron and me, though BJ came with us to the game, so I assume he is also coming.”
Charlotte rolls her eyes. “They take best friends to another level. I’ve never had a best friend who had my back like these two do for each other.” She shrugs one shoulder. “Sometimes I wish I had a best friend, but then I would have to cancel catch-ups more times than not. Work always comes first.”
I touch her arm. “I can relate. I have friends, but not like Byron and BJ.”
“Half my friends are in New York. The guys are lucky they share the same interest, and it took them in the same direction from college to their current career goals. Surprisingly, they never argue, though BJ would agree with whatever Byron suggests.” She eyes me for a moment. “I could give BJ a ride to give you two some privacy?”
Boom. I knew it.
“Or you could both come with us? I don’t need privacy while eating pizza and drinking wine.” While I’m happy for them, my gut tells me Byron might not be as understanding as I am if they are a secret couple. One thing I remember about Byron is that he despises secrets and dishonesty.
The following morning,I wake in an empty bed. I crashed at Byron’s after consuming far too much wine. The last thing I remember is him refusing to touch me the way I wanted to be touched because I’d consumed too much alcohol, but he did kiss me a lot.
I spread my arms out on the while linen of his massive bed and stare up at his high ceiling and the grand light overhead. It is quite remarkable in its design. I wonder if Penny helped him choose it since he mentioned she helped with the interior design and decorating. I’m looking forward to meeting her.
I roll onto my side and groan. What am I saying? My thoughts are racing ahead to meeting his family and being part of his life. I need a shower to clear my head. Pushing up onto my elbow, I see a note on the bedside table. He left me a note before leaving for his training session. Cute.
Morning Gi,
I kissed your cheek and whispered goodbye, but you were in a deep sleep at four thirty this morning, so I didn’t wake you. If you need to leave before I get home, take one of the cars in the garage. After training, we have a strengths session and plyometrics. I’ll be home to cook you lunch.
B x
A warm sensation rolls over me. I fold his note. Before I make it to the shower, my ringtone sounds in my bag. Isabella is calling.
“Hello.” Thank God it’s not FaceTime, as I’m wearing one of Byron’s T-shirts.
“My Gigi.”
“Morning, Isabella.”
“Yes, good morning. I forget.” I check the time, and in Southern Italy, it’s an hour before midnight. “I’m glad you’re awake, as I have fabulous news. I need you here for the weekend.”
“This Friday?” I croak.
“Sì, but only for a few days, my stellina. We have meetings. Saturday, we have to attend a… hmm, what do you say in America… a gala? Then you’re free to go home.”
“It’s late notice, Isabella.”
“No. Not late. First, let’s discuss your new artwork. While I love the colors, we want something to pop.”
“A brighter background color for a more vibrant contrast? We could do yellow and burnt orange or hot pink? Vivid backgrounds make me think of summer.”
“Bellissima, my stellina. I can see it now. And it’s perfect for our next project.”
“We have another project?”
“Sì. Cibo Creativo wants your designs on their appliances. Their mixers, toasters, kettles… all in the kitchen will have your beautiful artwork. Arrivederci noiosa cucina,” she says grandiosely. Goodbye boring kitchens.
It takes me a while to comprehend it’s not a fashion contract. I laugh and shake my head to unravel my thoughts. “Their appliances will be bright yellow and orange, covered with my flowers and nature art?”
“Sì.”
“This is exciting.” My lips are tight with a wide smile.
“We will discuss the terms, and you can meet the direttore generale at Cibo Creativo on Saturday.” CEO.
“This weekend?” I hesitate.
“Yes. Stay for four days. We have much to discuss.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll book your flights. Dante will be happy you’re coming home.”
Although Italy felt like home for a while, I’ve come to realize it’s not. Comfortable, yes, and safe. Then there’s Dante. He is her nephew, but it is an uncomfortable conversation. I repeatedly drag my foot along Byron’s cool bathroom tiles.
“It’s nice Dante feels that way.”
“He misses you. He is sorry for what happened between you.”
Why is he not telling me this?
“Sometimes things happen for a reason. I’ve met someone, and I’m happy.”
“Stellina, you know Dante. When he gets something in his head, he acts like a bull with a red muleta.”
Certain types of fixations annoy me, and bulls have dichromatic vision—they can’t even see the color red. I struggle to hide my irritation. “Byron is also a determined man.” Though the last thing I want is for these men to come face-to-face, and I refuse to be a trophy.
I spin around, thinking. If Byron is with me, maybe Isabella will ask Dante to leave me be. “May I bring someone to the gala?”
“We can discuss it later. I need to go, stellina, my ride is here.”
“Of course.” I shake my head. I do not want to step on Isabella’s toes, especially since this will be a great career advancement. Who knew I would come this far?
Byron. He always believed in my talent. But we both have careers we need to focus on, and neither one of us is ready to give that up for love. I’m still getting to know the man, not the boy I loved who broke my heart.
“I am excited to see you, stellina.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you, too, Isabella.” It is an odd feeling not seeing her most days anymore. I do miss her vibrant personality. “Bye.”
My thoughts are all over the place. What do I say to Byron? If he cares for me, he’ll be equally excited. I need to see him. At least he is easy to track down. I never knew where Dante could be or with whom. Byron’s second home is on a basketball court, and I’m happy to sit in the stands and watch him train. Who wouldn’t when his muscles glisten with sweat, contracting with every movement.
I shower, then call a ride, deciding not to take one of Byron’s cars. As soon as I’m home, I race inside to find my parents at the dining table.
“I have wonderful news.” I sit beside Mom and pour iced tea from the jug filled with ice on the kitchen table. “I might have a new contract with an Italian company for my designs to be on their kitchen appliances.” Mom’s eyebrows pinch as though she is trying to imagine it. It’s far different from the chrome appliances in our kitchen. “And Isabella wants me to return to Italy this weekend.”
“Why are you so calm, Gigi?” Mom places her hand over mine. “You should be shouting from the rooftops.”
I laugh, and my smile broadens. “I am, though I’m hesitant about something she said. Dante is excited to see me. Apparently, he misses me.”
Mom shakes her head as though she is processing. She understands he hurt me, but she has also always believed in second chances. “Do you still love him?”
I take a sip of iced tea. “I don’t think I was ever in love with him. I loved feeling wanted and being treated special. Being Isabella’s nephew had contacts in high places, and we experienced fun times on yachts and cruises and were often treated like royalty.”
“Are you scared to see him? Afraid you might want to go back when you are building a new life at home, a place where you feel safe?”
My mother can always see through me. “Maybe.”
“Nowhere is safe when it comes to having your heart broken, my darling.”
I take another sip of my tea. “While he hurt me, I didn’t upset Isabella or any of her family or business contacts. If I hurt him by rejection, I hope it doesn’t influence my business relationships.”
“It sounds like it’s not Dante that scares you but your relationship with Isabella, both personal and professional.”
“Yes.” I gulp more tea. “I’m happy being with Byron and want to try again. I also want to be here for Dad and you.”
Mom pats my hand before pulling it away. “Never put us before your career. It will work out. I need you to do what is best for you.”
“I agree with your mother. We’ll be here for you, Gigi. Always.”
I swallow hard, knowing that might not be true.
“Your father is right. When the time comes, you need to make the decision that is best for you at that particular time.”
I let out a long breath. “I will.”
Mom pats my arm. “Are you heading out today?”
“I’m going to watch Byron at his practice session and then tell him my news.”
Mom’s eyes widen. “You’ll sit in the stands, alone?”
My lips quirk into a grin. Mom knows I was never into sports.
“I guess that’s what girlfriends do.”
And just like that, I decide what’s right for me at this particular time.