15. Gianni

gianni

. . .

I hardly slept that night.

The room went from inky black dark to hazy gray as morning light filtered through the curtains.

Beside me, Ellie slept peacefully, facing me. Her thick, gingerbread-brown hair spilled onto the white pillowcase behind her head except for one wayward curl that trailed down her cheek. I brushed it back off her face, and her eyes opened. Outside in the sun, they’d be a light brown with flecks of honey, but here in the faintly violet light, they appeared dark as molasses.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Is it time to get up already?”

“You don’t have to. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” She rolled onto her back and stretched, her bare arms rising above the sheets. It was hard to believe that just two nights ago, our first night here, she’d demanded we sleep with clothes on. We’d been naked together in this bed a good portion of the hours since, including right now.

I wanted it to last a little longer.

Reaching for her, I gathered her close to me, and she put an arm over my chest and her head on my shoulder. We stayed that way for a few minutes, our bodies warm beneath the covers, our breathing synced.

“Remember when we got here and you said there would be no cuddling?” I asked her.

She laughed. “Yeah.”

“You were so wrong about that.”

“I was wrong about a lot of things.”

My heart stumbled across its next few beats. And then I blurted out something really fucking dumb.

“My car is fine.”

She looked up at me, confused. “Huh?”

Fuck! What was I doing? Why did I keep telling on myself?

But I kept going. “My car. It’s fine. It’s not dead.”

She bolted upright and stared down at me with hard, narrowed eyes. “You said yesterday morning it was dead. You said you tried to jump it, and it still wouldn’t run. Now it’s been miraculously resurrected?”

“I made it up. It was never dead.”

“Oh my God!” Ellie jumped out of bed, wincing at the pain as she hobbled over to the window and peeked out the curtain.

“Be careful on that foot,” I said weakly.

“All the cars out there yesterday morning were totally buried—how did I not see it then? The snow would have been disturbed if you’d tried to get a jump.” She whirled around to face me. “You asshole! You kept me prisoner here!”

“Ellie, let me explain.”

“I trusted you—like you said I could—and you took advantage of it!”

That one hit me like a punch in the stomach. “You can trust me.”

“No. I can’t. I don’t know why I thought I could. I must have been crazy.” She looked around and spied her sweatshirt on the floor. Scooping it up, she yanked it on. “Get out of that bed. We’re leaving.”

“But I want to talk about this. Please?”

“Not a chance, Gianni.” She spoke through clenched teeth. “All you do is lie. It’s very clear to me now what this was to you—a game, just like everything else. A big scam to get me in bed.”

“You’re wrong!” I got out of bed and went over to her, taking her by the arm.

“Am I?” She wrenched her arm free and blinked at me. “Let’s see. You hid the truth about Fiona’s offer. About your TV show. You faked a dead car to trap me here another night. Jesus, was everything you said to me in here a bunch of bullshit?”

“No! Everything I told you was true.”

“And why should I believe that?” She put her hands in her hair. “God, I’m such an idiot!”

“You’re not—will you please hear me out?” I followed her around the room as she limped around gathering her clothes and tugging them on—underwear, pants, socks. “I only lied about the car to have one more night alone with you.”

“Well, there’s something we agree on—you’re a liar.”

“But it wasn’t just to have sex! I honestly wanted you to myself for another night. Being with you was the most fun I’ve ever had with anyone!”

“Too bad it was all bullshit,” she snapped, shoving things in her bag. “Just one more example of Gianni Lupo treating the world like his playground. You probably arranged the blizzard too. Winked and smiled at Mother Nature, and she gave into you like every other girl does.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just sent a text to God. He’s a fan of Lick My Plate .”

She stopped moving and glared at me with daggers in her eyes.

“Okay, not the right time for a joke. Sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “But Ellie, I promise I didn’t do this to fuck with you. I did it because I wanted to be with you.”

“You can stop talking, Gianni. I’ll never believe another word you say.” She was eerily calm as she crossed in front of me on her way to the bathroom. “Get dressed. I want to leave in the next five minutes.”

Then the bathroom door slammed shut.

I sank onto the bed and dropped my head into my hands. What the actual fuck was I doing ? Why had I confessed? All I had to do was go outside and pretend the car started this morning. Maybe she’d have been a little suspicious, but she’d probably have been so glad we didn’t have to wait for a tow truck, her joy would have overshadowed her doubt.

Now she hated me again.

I fell onto my back and threw an arm over my eyes. This sucked. Usually, I ducked out of relationships before the other person involved really cared, and I was always careful not to mess around with anyone I worked with. It was too awkward seeing them in the kitchen the next day, and that was a space where I wanted a clear head, the respect of the staff, and positive energy. By telling Ellie what I’d done, I’d not only made things awkward between us, I’d ruined our friendship and polluted our working relationship.

Exhaling, I hauled myself to my feet and scrounged through my bag for some clothes to throw on—underwear, jeans, T-shirt, sweater. As I pulled it over my head, I remembered how she’d looked in it, how she’d worn it with nothing underneath, how I’d chased her around the room and pinned her beneath me and eventually tore the sweater right off her.

I pulled the collar over my nose and mouth, hoping it still smelled like her, but it didn’t.

Slowly, I pulled on my coat, boots, hat and gloves, grabbed the keys from my pocket, and went outside to dig my undead car from its snowy grave.

The ride back to Abelard was long, tense, and silent. The storm was over now. The sky was blue and the sun was shining, although the temperature was close to zero, with a windchill of eighteen below.

But that was nothing compared to the arctic air in the front seat of my car, where Ellie sat bundled up in the passenger seat with her knees pressed together, her arms folded over her chest, and her face turned toward the window.

A few times, I tried talking to her. Results varied.

“Ellie. Can we talk about it?”

Stone cold silence.

“I’m really sorry about everything. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

She harrumphed, and that was it.

“I confessed and apologized, didn’t I? Shouldn’t that count for something? You never would have known if I hadn’t said anything.”

“Because I’m a fool, right?”

Shit, that came out wrong. “No! That’s not what I meant. I’m just trying to show you that I told the truth voluntarily. I didn’t get caught.”

“Good for you. But I’m fresh out of gold stars.”

“Tell me what I can say or do to make it up to you,” I begged.

“You can stop talking.”

Exhaling, I gave it a couple minutes and tried again. “I didn’t think you’d be so mad.”

That earned me a sharp look. “I guess you don’t know me very well.”

“Yes, I do, Ellie! I know you better now than I ever have.”

“Ha!”

“I know how badly you wanted the Tastemaker thing, not for your own ego, but for the good of your family business. I know how disappointed you were with the way things turned out. I know you put your heart and soul into everything you do at Abelard because you love it and you never want to leave it. I know you feel like you’ll never be as perfect as your mother expects you to be—which you’re wrong about, but I’ll just shut up about that—and I know what you look like naked, what your skin feels like against mine, how you like to be touched, and what sounds you make when you have an orgasm, so don’t tell me I don’t know you very well!” I’d managed all of that in nearly one breath and felt my heart beating hard inside my chest.

In response, Ellie reached over and turned up the radio.

I turned it down. “At least say you hate me or something.”

“I hate you. Feel better?”

“No,” I admitted.

She stared straight ahead and sighed. “You know what? I don’t hate you. I feel nothing, which is even better.”

I glanced at her. Her profile was set hard.

A minute later, when she turned up the radio again, I didn’t touch it.

When we pulled up at Abelard, it was just after ten. Someone had been there with a plow already, and most of the lot was cleared, a huge mountain of snow over on one side. I pulled up close to the kitchen and turned off the engine.

Immediately, Ellie reached for the door handle and I reached over, placing a hand on her leg.

“Don’t,” she said, pushing my hand off her.

“Are you going to give me the silent treatment forever? We have to work together, Ellie.”

“Only until you leave, and the sooner the better.”

“Even if I take that show offer, I won’t go until April.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled. “Fine. I can be professional until you go. But that’s it. We’re not friends.”

The pit in my stomach widened. “Why can’t we be friends?”

“We’re too different, Gianni.” Her voice had lost its edge. “What happened at the motel was a mistake.”

For some reason, hearing her say that gutted me a little. “So you regret it?”

She took a second to think, which made her answer even worse. “Yes. I do.”

I took my hand off her leg and let her go.

Ellie and I unloaded the car without speaking another word to each other. When it was empty, she carried the storage cases of dirty wineglasses down to the tasting room, and I brought the heavy box of unopened bottles. The silence was painful, but I knew nothing good would come of trying to soften her up today—she was still boiling mad. I needed to give her anger time to reduce to a slow simmer. Then maybe we could talk more reasonably.

It wasn’t that I needed her to love me or anything, but I hated the thought that she regretted everything that had happened between us. That she’d look at me with resentment for the next couple months. That she thought I’d taken advantage of her. That it was all a joke to me. A game.

In the middle of unpacking the bottles, I looked over at her. She was pulling glasses from the storage case with her back to me. Her hair tumbled down in messy waves and caused an ache in my chest I wasn’t sure I’d ever experienced before. I took a breath, ready to say her name, kneel at her feet, and beg forgiveness—but it was someone else’s voice that broke the silence.

“Ellie!” Winnie came rushing into the tasting room. “You’re back!”

Ellie turned and hugged her friend. “I’m back.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Winnie studied her friend’s face for a moment, and some kind of communication passed back and forth between them. Then she turned to me with a friendly smile. “Hey, Gianni.”

“Hi, Winnie.”

“You guys look beat.”

“Yeah.” I threw a quick glance at Ellie, who met my eyes and then looked away. “It was quite an adventure.”

Ellie made a noise, something between a snort of disgust and a bitter laugh. “I need a shower.”

Winnie looked at her. “You’ve got time. Des was already planning to cover your eleven o’clock tasting.”

“Is he here yet?”

“Just got here.”

Ellie nodded. “Okay. I’ll check in with him and then go grab a quick shower.”

Winnie turned to me. “My sister Felicity is also here again today if you want to run home and clean up, Gianni. She can handle dinner prep, no problem.”

“I’ll talk to her,” I said. “I really appreciate her pitching in last night. My dad said she was great.”

“She had fun, I think,” Winnie said with a laugh. “It’s been a while since she’s worked in a restaurant kitchen, and she said she’d forgotten how exciting the chaos can be.”

“I’m grateful she was there.” My phone vibrated in my back pocket, and I pulled it out. “This is my dad calling. Excuse me a minute.”

“Just leave the bottles,” Ellie said with no emotion. “I’ll unpack them.”

Nodding, I left the tasting room and answered my dad’s call. “Hello?”

“You back?”

“Yeah.” I climbed the steps and headed through Abelard’s lobby toward Etoile’s small dining room, which looked out over the vineyard.

“How was the drive?”

“Fine.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

My dad paused. “Tired?” He must have sensed from my tone something was off with me.

“Yeah.” I walked over toward the dining room windows. At night, Etoile was almost entirely lit by candles and wall sconces to keep the atmosphere warm and intimate, but right now, bright natural light flooded the space. “Thanks again for filling in last night.”

“Of course. If you’re short-handed today, Felicity said she could come back.”

“I think she’s here already.”

“Is she?” He laughed. “Dammit. If you said you didn’t need her, I was gonna see if she’d come work for me. I just lost a station chef last week.”

“I might not need her. Depends on who’s able to get here today.”

“Okay, let me know. She might not want a full-time position anyway. We were talking last night, and she’s interested in starting a vegetarian catering company.”

I made a face. “I don’t understand people who don’t eat meat.”

He laughed. “Yeah. It’s a whole other way of life. But plant-based diets are getting more popular, so it’s a smart gamble. I bet she’ll do well.”

“Good for her.” It came out a little grumpier than I intended.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes for a second. “Listen, I gotta go. I’m going to talk to Felicity and see if she can cover while I run home and clean up.”

“Okay. Hey, Mom wants to talk. She was worried about you.”

I grimaced. I didn’t really have time for a worried mom thing right now, but I couldn’t say no. “Okay.”

“Gianni?” My mom’s voice was high-pitched with concern. “You’re back?”

“I’m back.”

“Thank God. I’m so glad you got off the road when you did.”

“Yeah.”

“So what was wrong with your car?”

“Uh, nothing. It started without any problem this morning.”

“Huh.” Silence. “That’s weird.”

It was probably my imagination—or maybe my guilty conscience—but I detected a note of suspicion. “Yes. But lucky. We made it back in time for work today.”

“How’s Ellie? She survive the trauma of being stuck in a motel with you for two days?”

“Barely.”

My mom laughed. “Well, I’m glad you two were together. It would have been terrible if she’d been alone. Tell her to get in touch with her mom, please. Mia is worried about her and says she hasn’t returned her calls.”

That was about the last thing I wanted to do, but I said okay. “I’ll tell her. How are you feeling?”

“Much better, now that you’re home safe. I know you’re all grown up, but I still worry about you.”

“I’m fine, Mom. But listen, I gotta go.”

“Okay, honey. Love you.”

“I love you too.”

In the kitchen, I found Felicity chopping celery and carrots. I forced a smile. “Hey, you. Stop being so good at this job. They’re going to fire me.”

She looked up and laughed. “Not a chance.” Setting down her knife, she wiped her hands and came toward me with one extended. “Hi. I’m Felicity MacAllister.”

I shook it. “Gianni Lupo. I can’t thank you enough for the help.”

“My pleasure.” She looked around. “You’ve got a beautiful kitchen here. And the whole trial by fire thing was probably good for me. Saved me from being nervous—I had no time.”

“From what I hear, your nerves are unnecessary. My dad is ready to make you a sous chef in his main restaurant—he wouldn’t even let me be a sous chef. I had to bus tables and make pizzas for three years. Then he let me move up to salads.”

Felicity laughed. She didn’t resemble her younger sister much—Winnie was blond and blue-eyed like a California girl, and Felicity had brown eyes and hair so dark it was nearly black. “He runs a tight ship, I can tell.”

“He yells a lot, you mean?”

She shrugged as she chuckled. “There may have been some yelling. But it was good—he was dealing with an unfamiliar team in an unfamiliar space, and I think we all needed someone to take charge.”

“Well, I really appreciate you being here.”

She gestured toward the vegetables she’d been chopping. “I know it’s not on your usual dinner menu, but I soaked some cannellini beans overnight for a smoky tomato and white bean soup just in case you needed something extra. I wasn’t sure what time you’d make it in.”

“It’s a good day for hot soup, and that sounds delicious. What’s the smoke from?”

“Harissa paste.”

I nodded. “Great. Please make it, and I’ll add it to the dinner menu tonight. If you’re okay here, I’ll just run home for a shower.”

“No problem. Is there any other prep work I can do for you?”

“Probably. Let me take a look at what I was planning for tonight’s menu and see what I’m dealing with. Was there a meat and fish delivery yesterday?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” I rubbed my eyes with a thumb and forefinger. “Fuck. I’m tired.”

“Why don’t you grab a nap while you’re home?” she suggested. “Honestly, if you just go over the menu and prep work with me before you leave, I’ll get it done.”

“That would be fucking amazing. I might need to crash for twenty minutes, if that’s okay. I didn’t sleep much last night.”

She smiled sympathetically. “I think you might need more than twenty minutes.”

Felicity was right—the minute I got to my apartment, I fell face first into my pillow and slept for two hours. I woke up in a panic and jumped into the shower, but I had to admit, I did feel a little better.

Except my stomach was still in knots over how I’d left things with Ellie. Every time I thought about the things she’d said—she couldn’t trust me, what we’d done was a mistake, she felt nothing for me—I felt sick.

Ellie was special to me. She wasn’t just a friend. She was part of my history, close to my family, a piece of home. She was someone I respected and admired. Someone I had fun with—okay, often at her expense, but she could give as good as she got. I loved that about her. Had I taken her for granted?

On the drive back to Abelard, I tried to think of something I could do to convince her I wasn’t the evil villain she thought I was. I tried to think about what my dad would do, about what he’d done in the past when my mom was really mad at him. But he always seemed to be able to soften her up with just a look. A hand on her back. If I tried to touch Ellie, she’d probably kick me in the balls.

Flowers? Candy? A hedgehog?

Spying a grocery store, I pulled into the lot and ran inside. Their bouquets weren’t terribly impressive, but they were better than nothing. In line, I also grabbed a bag of M&M’s from the candy rack.

I arrived back at Abelard around three and instead of heading for the kitchen, I went down to the tasting room and peeked in. She stood behind the long counter pouring small glasses of wine for about eight people seated at the bar. Her blouse was pink today, and it reminded me of the color in her cheeks on our walk in the woods. Then she laughed, and the sound made my chest hurt. But when she looked up and saw me standing there, her smile faded. “Excuse me,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She came to the arched entrance where I stood, her back straight and her face impassive. Her hair was down, which surprised me. She looked beautiful, but I couldn’t help thinking she was even more stunning first thing in the morning, no makeup, her hair a mess, her skin warm and soft against mine.

“What do you need?” She kept her voice low. “I’m working.”

“Your hair looks pretty.”

“Thank you,” she said stiffly.

I held out the flowers and candy. “I brought you some roses and M&M’s.”

She eyeballed them like they might explode or squirt water in her face. “Why?”

“Because I’m sorry. Because I want to be friends again. Because they didn’t have hedgehogs at Meijer.”

“Friendship cannot be bought, Gianni.”

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I told you—I don’t hate you.”

“Okay, well, I don’t want you to feel nothing for me.”

She tilted her head, her eyes penetrating mine. “What is it you’d like me to feel?”

“I don’t know. Something,” I said pathetically. “I don’t want you to walk away regretting everything.”

“Don’t you?”

“No! That was the most fun I’ve ever had with anyone. I didn’t want it to end—that’s why I lied.”

For a moment she said nothing, then she took a breath. “I had fun with you too, Gianni. I just don’t like being misled. I feel like you batted me around like a toy because you were bored.”

“That’s not it at all,” I insisted. “I just wanted you to myself a little longer, and I knew once we left that place, whatever we had would end. It was a dick move, and I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I told you the truth, I should have just left it alone.”

“I know why you told me the truth,” she said. Like it was obvious.

“You do?”

“Yes. To ruin things.”

“Why would I ruin things between us?”

“Because that’s what you do,” she reminded me. “Remember? You ruin things on purpose.”

“But that’s about relationships ,” I said defensively. “That’s not about—aboutwhat we have.”

She raised her hands. “Look, I don’t want to argue. Let’s just leave what happened between us where it belongs, back in room thirteen at the Pineview Motel.”

Exhaling, I dropped my eyes to the floor and noticed she wore flats instead of heels. “How’s your ankle?”

“A little sore.”

“You shouldn’t stand all day. Can you sit behind the counter?”

“Maybe. But I should get back in there. Are we done?”

“I guess. I came here to make things better, but I’m only making them worse.” I searched her eyes. “Will you accept my apology?”

“Yes. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“We go back to being co-workers, nothing more. And nothing like that ever happens again—you keep your hands to yourself.”

“Fine.”

“I’m not done. I want you to be professional around here. Stop giving me a hard time. No more coming in here just to fuck with me—this is my space . You stay out of it.”

“I can do that. Scout’s honor.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You were a Boy Scout?”

“For about ten minutes. Until the snacks ran out.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. I have one more condition.”

“Name it.”

“You accept the offer to do Hot Mess.”

I cocked my head. “You really want to get rid of me, don’t you?”

“I just want you to go where you belong, Gianni. You know you’re not going to stay here, so why drag it out? You did what you had to do—opened Etoile. Started the fire. Now that it’s burning, you’re free to go. There’s no reason to stay, right?” Her tone was defiant, almost like she was daring me to argue with her.

“I guess not.”

“So go.”

I nodded, even though something about this felt off. “Okay. I’ll go.”

“Good. Then I’ll accept your apology.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I have to get back in there. I’ll be up in time for the first seating.”

“Okay.”

Then she surprised me by taking the roses and M&M’s from my hands.

“I thought friendship couldn’t be bought,” I said.

She hugged them to her chest. “We’re not friends.” Then she turned and walked away, leaving me with a smile on my face.

And an ache in my chest.