Chapter 21
GIANA
One week later…
“Can we please order another bottle,”Paige asks the server in her politest posh voice to disguise the number of drinks she has already consumed. Paige tidies her hair when he leaves, then looks around the table. “One more bottle.”
“We’ve had three already,” I add.
“I like this side of you,” Jessica says. It’s been years since I hung out with Jessica, and tonight, she is fun. Not as amusing as Paige. “But girl, I am not holding no puke bag on the ride home.”
I giggle. “If it comes to that, I’ll be your wing girl.”
“Wing girl?” Jessica says with round eyes, her long fake lashes touching her brow. “Too late if she’s already crashed and burned.” We laugh together.
Tonight has been fun and exactly what I needed. With Byron in Abu Dhabi for preseason games, I have spent most days at home, painting and spending valuable time with my parents. This is the second time Paige and I have caught up this week, and when she suggested a girls’ night out, I screamed with excitement.
“So, how is life with a famous NBA player?” Jessica asks.
“It’s fun with Byron. He’s different. As for the fame part, we don’t go out much, so I don’t really see the fans.”
“I heard he’s boring now because he is so focused on the game.”
“Who told you that?” Paige pipes up.
“He’s not boring at all.” I wink before turning to Jessica. “He has always been focused on basketball, even at school, so I guess he hasn’t changed in that regard. He’s… calmer. He trusts his intuition and doesn’t care what other people do or think. He has his routine, and I’ve never met a more disciplined person. I am not that person…” I admit, smiling at her, “… but life is good with Byron.”
Paige stares goggle-eyed at me. “You’re a cute couple.”
The waiter tops up our flutes, the liquid bubbles making us giggly. “I never expected to settle into life with Byron as easily as I have after coming home. When I first came back, I made a list of rules and decided to avoid him because I had sworn off his type for life. But he was persistent and… sweet.”
Jessica smiles at me. “I’m really happy for you.” She turns to Paige, who is already downing her drink. “I like that you all get to hang out together and do couple dates. I want that too. Anyone would think I was doing a dick detox.”
Paige and I giggle. “Byron doesn’t get to do much socializing, and now the season has started, I expect to see even less of him. Not a bad thing, as I have paintings to finish.”
“So you’re staying?” Jessica asks. “You’re not returning to Italy?”
Paige slurs her words. “She bought a new car, so yeah, she is staying. An Alfa Romeo, baby.”
I grin at Paige. “Part of my heart is still there, but I’m not going anywhere for now. I’m not sure how long, whether it’s months or years. While I can spend time with my parents, especially my father, I’ll only make short trips back to Italy.”
Jessica holds up her purse, the fabric printed with one of my designs. “I bought this online and love it. You’re extremely talented, Giana.”
“Thank you.” Heat rises to my cheeks. Jessica has never commended me on my work, and it means a lot. “Please, if either of you like the designs, tell me as I can get it significantly cheaper. It’s the least I can do for my friends.”
Jessica picks up her crystal flute and clinks it with mine. “Cheers to all the Leto Designs coming our way.”
“Now drink,” Paige says. She is sitting next to Jessica. Paige holds a finger on the base of the glass, forcing Jessica to down her champagne. “Keep going. Keep up the pace.” She tilts the glass higher. Jessica’s eyes pop with Paige force-feeding her. “Gurrll, don’t waste it.” She wipes the sides of Jessica’s mouth. “This stuff isn’t free.”
I’m laughing. I can’t remember laughing this much in months.
“Whoa,” Jessica utters as she catches her breath. She lets out a burp that she tries to hold in, and we crack up at the weird animal noise that bubbles out of her throat.
Paige is still giggling as she refills our glasses. “Mason and I are talking about moving in together.” At first, she sounds dismissive, but then her face sags and she downs a few mouthfuls of her drink. Finally, some answers to her behavior. We should order more food, or I’ll be on puke duty for Paige.
“That’s a good thing, right?” I say, signaling to the waiter.
She downs the rest of her glass. “So why am I scared?” She places her glass on the table and looks to us for answers.
“I think it’s natural to be afraid. It’s the next step in our lives, where we go from making decisions that are right for us to making decisions that are best for both of you.”
“Right.” She tops up her drink, then places the bottle back in the ice bucket. Something isn’t right.
“Is it what you want, Paige?”
“Yes, but I’m not ready for babies.”
Jessica splutters her drink. “That went from zero to ten. Are you pregnant?”
“Nooo,” she groans. “Mason wants to get married and have kids, like yesterday.”
“Then talk to him and say you want to slow it down. Move in together and enjoy each other first. Mason is the opposite to Byron. When I quizzed him about the future and kids, not that I want any yet, he looked like he’d seen his dead grandmother rise from the grave.”
“See, I’m on the same page as him,” Paige agrees.
Jessica turns to me. “What did Byron say?”
“Maybe in the future.” I shrug. “It was a big maybe, but to be fair, we were babysitting his new niece, and he was spooked.”
“I saw photos on Penny’s Insta. She’s sooo cute.” Paige swoons.
“Paige, when the time is right, you’ll make a great mom.”
“Until then…” Jessica adds, “… I vote for more girls’ nights.”
We clink our glasses again.
Jessica peers over the rim of her glass. “Tell me about BJ. Byron and he are close, yeah?”
“They are. They met in college and have been friends ever since. He’s from Australia, so the Hendricks kind of adopted him.”
“Single?”
Oh shit. How do I say he’s unavailable without saying who he’s with, as they know I would know,and yet his best friend has no clue.
“We went to his condo recently and hung out with him and a few of the players,” Paige remarks as though it’s nothing. “We watched a big game of Aussie football. I didn’t understand much, but Lottie filled me in. She seems to know a lot about the game.”
“Right.” I look nervously at Jessica, then back to Paige. “She loves sports and is a lot like Byron.”
“I didn’t stay long. I left Mason and went shopping. He was in his element with all the players around him.”
I let out a long, silent breath. “I prefer shopping to sports, so if I were there, I could have accompanied you.”
Paige slurs her words. “But to answer your question, Jess, I don’t think he is with anyone.”
For the past few years,my Saturday nights have been about wine, pizza, and late-night festivities. Tonight, I’m sitting in the VIP seats at the LA Sharks’ sell-out home game—the first of the regular season.
Byron’s parents are behind me. I’ve had little time to speak to his mother, and yet she has already invited me to their house for Thanksgiving. It’s a kind offer, yet I’d prefer to have Thanksgiving with my parents, then visit the Hendricks later.
Sensing someone is staring, I turn and sneak a glance. Jobe gives me a nod. His eyes are serious, and I can’t help but feel like he is assessing me. I understand he is looking out for his brother, but I am already nervous about being here, so I return my gaze to the front.
I’m sitting on the aisle seat, and Charlotte is next to me, Franklin and Penny on her other side. They got sitters for the game. I overhear Franklin and Penny discussing player matchups while the cheerleaders entertain.
The loud pump-up music ramps up, along with the lights. It’s entertainment at an A-list level. Flashing lights shine erratically over the crowd, and my eyes are pulled to the circular multiscreen scoreboard high over the court. One of the screens shows the players in the tunnel, jumping and bouncing off each other as they mentally prepare themselves for the game. Then the players run out onto the court as screams and cheers echo around the arena.
“Good evening, and welcome to the home of the LA Sharks.” The announcer continues to talk about player histories and the coaches and staff, and the cheers continue, but my gaze is stuck on Byron.
He is in the zone, his own bubble of concentration. I doubt he hears anything as he bounces up and down, runs fast on the spot, crouches low, then springs into a jump. When the announcer stops, he grabs the balls and bounces two at a time while focusing on something in the distance. He jabs and moves while his team gathers around the coach. Once the coach finishes, the team starts to take their positions. Looking up into the crowd, his intense gaze finds mine. He jogs over, up a few stairs, and kisses me, his lips lingering.
“Good luck,” I whisper. There’s a hint of a smile before he turns and bounces down the stairs to regroup with his team.
Charlotte nudges me. “Told you this will be his new routine before every game. Best book your flights now.”
But what if I’m not here? I have an upcoming trip to Italy for Austin Cisterna’s new movie. And then there’s Isabella’s new offer, which I have to consider without declining on instinct. Surely, after all his hard work, a little superstition of my absence won’t affect his performance.
It’s not a concern for tonight—the game is edge-of-your-seat fast, and we come away with a win.
The following morning,after sleeping at Byron’s, I park my new Alfa Romeo in the garage beside Mom’s Mercedes. Her car is now ten years old, yet still in pristine condition. I can’t help worrying about their future, what with Dad retiring early and all their finances dropping significantly. Thankfully, Dad had good insurance, but it’s a matter of time before he’ll need better supervision, especially at night if he gets confused and wanders. With an uncertain future, I understand why Mom wants me to take every opportunity possible to advance my career. More than ever, I need to be financially independent and continue with new contracts to help my parents with their health insurance and my dad’s ongoing needs.
“Morning,” I say to my mother, who is prepping food in the kitchen.
Mom turns around. “How was your night, love?”
“Great. Byron won, and he mentioned getting Dad and you tickets to the next game. He thinks Dad would enjoy it.” Mom doesn’t look excited. “Only if you want to go.”
This time, her eyes crinkle when she smiles. “We would, but the noise might scare your father. It could make him anxious and more confused.”
“Or it could be a great night for him. There is a special glassed room if sitting in the VIP section could be too much. The noise is dulled, but you can see everything, and it’s private, away from the crowd.”
“Byron offered to do that?”
“Yes. He’s thoughtful, Mom.”
She ponders my words. “I’ll talk to your father first.”
“Of course.”
“Are you going to tell Byron about your offer to return to Italy?”
I sense my brow tightening. “Not today. I’ll wait until after the next game.” They travel to Boston, and Byron believes their guard has an edge over him in an away game. It’s not like Byron to admit someone is better than him. He is all about the win.
She turns to the kitchen window to keep a watchful eye on my father puttering in the garden.
Before I take the stairs to change my dress, I stall, thinking about my dad. “Does he garden all year round? Even on the coldest days?” I should know this about him. While he did when he was younger as gardening was like therapy, even when I was at school, I’m concerned for his health. His immunity has weakened.
“I try to keep him indoors, but it’s like caging him from what he loves. So, we often go out and sit and watch the rain with a throw over our knees.”
I think about their simple life together. Happy to just be as long as they have one another. I find it hard to imagine Byron and me at their age, content watching the rain. It’s hard to imagine Byron ever slowing down with his endless energy.
“I don’t want you worrying about us. We’ll be fine,” Mom adds.
I want to believe her. I head upstairs to paint until Byron finishes practice.
An hour later, Mom comes into my studio. “It’s beautiful, Giana. You really do have a gift.”
“Thank you, Mom.” I dab color on the canvas. “It’s almost complete, though Isabella demanded another five designs.”
“You’ll be fine, my sweet girl.” She places a gentle hand on my shoulder. Why do I get the notion there is more to her words than the pressure of a deadline? She squeezes my shoulder. “Wherever you are in the world, we’ll support you.”
“And if I decide to stay… for me.” Not for Byron or my parents. “What if LA is where I’m supposed to be to expand my business?”
“As long as you make the decision that’s in your best interest, for you and your career, how can I tell you otherwise? All I’ve ever wanted is for you to have the chances I never got. I wish I got to spend time in Italy… explore my roots. It’s my one last regret.”
“It’s never too late, Mom.”
She pats my shoulder, but her eyes tell me otherwise. “I’ll leave you to paint.”
Her silence speaks volumes.
Time. Regret. Choices. Is she telling me to go? I lied about staying in LA for me. My heart beats fast when I think about telling Byron I’m returning to Italy for a year or two with only short trips home. Could we manage a long-distance love? My stomach churns, already knowing the answer.