Educating Gina (10 page)

“I put them in the trunk.” Mike let the conversation lag as he pulled Antonio’s car onto the freeway and merged with the traffic.

Mike seldom drove. Normally he would’ve told Robert to take a cab, but he seriously considered confiding in his friend about his problem with Gina. A bit difficult, perhaps, because Rob and Gina were related, but they weren’t close cousins, and Robert definitely did not share his father’s attitudes about family, anyway.

Still, Mike hesitated. Something odd was going on at the office. The guys gave him funny looks. Antonio’s brother-in-law, Augie, had always stopped in Mike’s office on the way back from getting his first cup of coffee in the morning. Not anymore. He hurried past as if he was late for an appointment. Except the guy hadn’t had an appointment in three years. He knew the business, but he was lazy. Mike liked him, anyway.

“You haven’t noticed anything odd in the office?” he asked Robert again when the Mercedes behind him had finally gotten off his tail.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” He felt foolish all of a sudden. “Like some of the guys seem to be avoiding me.”

Alarm flickered in Robert’s eyes and then he looked away. “It’s your imagination.”

“Bullshit!” Mike knew that reticent tone of voice. Robert was hiding something. “What’s going on? Is it about the West Coast distributorship?”

“No.” Robert’s quick denial was almost believable, but convinced Mike he did know something. “I swear, nothing is going on about that.”

“What, then?”

Robert turned to face him. “I don’t know what to tell you, buddy. Everything is kosher as far as I know.”

Mike concentrated on his driving. He couldn’t think about Gina right now, or what he should or shouldn’t tell Robert. With all his guilt chewing at him, it was highly possible nothing was going on in the office. It really was just him.

“How’s it going with my cousin?”

“Don’t ask.”

Rob chuckled. “Where is she now?”

“At your pop’s apartment.”

“What’s she doing—refiguring the Dewey decimal system?”

“She’s got a lot more energy and curiosity than you give her credit for.”

“Yeah? So what have you guys been doing?”

Mike coughed. That part he wasn’t prepared to discuss. “Nothing much. Central Park, Coney Island, the usual tourist stuff. The thing is—”

“Ah, crap. Where’s your cell phone?”

Mike took it out of his pocket and handed it to him.

“I was supposed to call Melanie. She wanted to get to the airport on her own, but she has a habit of oversleeping.”

Mike returned his attention to driving while Robert punched in his girlfriend’s number. His friend’s self-absorption sometimes annoyed Mike, but at the moment he was grateful. The interruption gave him time to come to his senses. It wasn’t right to discuss Gina with Robert, or anyone. She wasn’t just another woman.

The notion struck a chord of fear in him. That wasn’t to say she was anyone special to him. Sure, he liked the way she was unafraid to jump into tough situations. Or used her brains and not her femininity to make a point. And man, did he like the way she looked.

Even more, he liked the way she looked at him. He got hard in two seconds just thinking about that sexy pout of hers, the way her gaze melted into his, begging for his touch. And the sounds she made when he tasted her breasts. It was the most awesome—

“Yo, Mike!”

He blinked and glanced at Robert.

“You’re gonna miss the exit.”

“Dammit.” He changed lanes just in time and managed not to hit anybody.

“You just took three years off my life.” Robert twisted around to look out the back window.

Mike checked the rearview mirror. A guy he had cut off was giving them the finger. “Next time wave the other four at us,” he muttered.

Robert chuckled. “This isn’t like you. What’s got you so distracted?”

Nothing was like him anymore. Ever since Gina had arrived, he hadn’t had a moment’s peace. But he was having fun, too. It’d been a long time since he’d been interested in anything but work. Why the hell did she have to be the boss’s niece?

He darted a glance at Robert, who’d already moved on to checking his plane ticket. “Question.”

“Shoot.”

“Will Gina be offered a position in the company?”

Robert grunted. “You know Pop. He’s kind of old-fashioned about that stuff. My aunt Sophia is worse. She wouldn’t let Gina work.”

“Does anybody in your family realize this is the twenty-first century?”

“Nope.” Robert grinned. “Only me. I don’t like my women barefoot and pregnant.”

“I’m serious, Rob. Gina is smart, and she knows the business. She’d be an asset.”

“I wouldn’t let Pop hear that kind of talk. The last thing he’d want is for you to encourage Gina.” Robert sent him a speculative frown. “Something else is bothering you.”

“Me? Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s just your paranoia about the office gossip.”

“What gossip?” Mike’s heart sank. Was it about Gina? His job? “I haven’t heard anything.”

“There’s nothing to hear. I only meant that you keep worrying that something is going on.” Robert shook his head. “You’re the one who needs a vacation, buddy. When I get back, you’d better think seriously about getting away for a while.”

“Right.” Signs to the various La Guardia terminals popped up all of a sudden. “Pay attention to the signs. I don’t want to get stuck in the arrival lane and have to circle the airport.”

Conversation ceased while they navigated their way to the right terminal. Cabs hogged the curb and space was at a premium. Mike pulled over as close to the skycap station as he could and then popped the trunk.

Robert jumped out and hurriedly yanked out his bags. “Thanks for the lift,” he said into Mike’s open window. “I’m serious about you taking a vacation when I get back. I figure I can manage to hold down the fort for a week or two without everything falling apart.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it. Have a good trip.” Mike started to raise the window as Robert headed for the curb. “Hey, Robert—” his friend looked back “—how about taking Gina off my hands for about a week when you get back?”

“No problem.” He gave him a salute and then turned to the skycap.

Oh, yeah, there was a problem. Gina was going to be pissed off and, even worse, hurt and confused. But this had to stop before things went too far.

Mike suddenly felt guilty as hell.

Mama called her stubborn. Gina preferred determined.

She watched him read the entertainment section of the newspaper. Tiny lines formed between his brows when he concentrated, and his mouth looked very stern. She liked it better when it was soft and sucking her breasts.

“How about we go see a movie for a change?” He looked up when she did not answer right away. “Anything you want to see?”

She sighed. She wanted to go dancing, but for the past two nights all he said was maybe later. Later she would be back in Tuscany under her mother and grandmother’s eagle eyes. The thought depressed her.

“Gina?”

“What?”

“I asked what movie you’d like to see.”

“I do not want to see a movie.” She plopped down beside him on her uncle’s couch and sat cross-legged. The freedom of wearing jeans would be something else she would miss. “I want to go dancing.”

He tensed at her nearness. Did he think she would bite? “What’s wrong with seeing a movie?”

“I can go to a movie back home.”

“You can go dancing, too.”

She shook her head. “I am not allowed.”

“To dance?”

“If I took a chaperon, I would be permitted. My aunt Gabriella went with me once. She has a big heart but a mean bulldog face, and the boys would not ask me to dance.”

He laughed.

Gina stared down at her red fingernails. He did not understand how strict her parents were.

“I’m sorry I laughed.” He touched her knee where she had made a tear in her jeans. “I thought you were kidding.”

She looked up to find pity in his eyes. It made her angry and she looked away again.

“So what
do
you do all day back home?” he asked, and it was hard to stay mad while he still touched her. He had not removed his hand, and she prayed this meant he would no longer treat her so distantly.

“I have not been home from school long. Only two months. I read a lot. Some books like
War and Peace
and all the Jane Austens I have read twice.” She shrugged. “I cook and sew. Mama does not know about the dresses and skirts I made for my trip.”

A grin tugged at his mouth. “I figured as much.” And then he got his serious look. “You went to college and then graduate school. Why aren’t you joining the workforce?”

She frowned. “What is this force?”

He smiled. “Why don’t you get a job?”

“That would be worse than going dancing without my chaperon!”

“I don’t get it. You’re obviously very bright and you understand business. Why did you bother going to school if you weren’t going to use what you learned?”

“You sound like my papa.” That was the only time she had stood up to him. After college, he had forbidden her to go on to graduate school. She had begged and pleaded, and finally demanded.

She sighed and uncrossed her legs. Her right foot had gone to sleep and she massaged it until feeling came back. “Do you want more wine?”

He shook his head.

Grabbing her empty glass, she got up and went to the wet bar for the bottle of chardonnay she had opened earlier.

“I’m not criticizing you. Or your family. I’m frustrated, that’s all.”

She brought the bottle with her and stared quizzically at him as she settled back on the couch. “Why would you be frustrated?”

“Because I care about you. And I don’t—”

“You do?”

“Of course I do.” He took the bottle from her and filled his glass halfway.

She grinned. It was nice to hear him say he cared.

“What?” he said.

She refilled her glass and then set the wine aside. “Maybe you could show me more about the business.”

He laughed. “You probably know more than I do.”

Pride surged through her. What he said was not true, but that he would think it at all pleased her. “Sometimes I listen to Papa talk on the phone in his office or I visit the wine maker, but that is all.” She shrugged. “I know very little.”

His expression grew somber. “Are you serious about learning more?”

“Oh, yes. I could go to the office with you in the mornings and then—”

He held up a hand, doubt in his eyes. “What about your uncle? What would he say?”

Always it was about what the family would say. Of which she was equally guilty. “He has lived in America a long time. He is used to a big city and modern ways. He does not care that I wear jeans or paint my fingernails.”

“But he cares what your mother and father think.”

She sighed and said something in Italian the nuns had spanked her for in eighth grade. “Zio Antonio does not have to know everything we do.”

He coughed. “Amen to that.”

“I will go to the office with you tomorrow, yes?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got to think about it.”

“Before Zio Antonio wakes up.”

Michael looked unconvinced. “What about the others? Augie and Lorenzo will wonder what you’re doing there.”

“Those two start work before ten?” She grunted and waved a hand. “I do not think so.”

He tried to hide his amusement, but the way his lips twitched before he flattened them gave him away. She was beginning to read him well. Like when his eyes became greener when he was angry and darker when he was aroused. Dark was good. She wanted to see them like that again soon.

He still seemed hesitant, but he finally said, “Okay, maybe for a couple of hours tomorrow you can go in with me.”

“It is a date.” She lifted her wineglass in the air and took a sip.

He glanced heavenward. “No, it’s not.”

She laughed. “And tonight?” After setting down her glass, she inched closer to him. “What will we do tonight?”

His gaze stayed on her glass. “Haven’t you had enough chardonnay?”

“You should know better, Michael.” She pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. “Wine is like water to us. I have had a glass every weekend I was home from school since I was ten.”

His eyebrows drew together and he stared at her in a most peculiar way. This new shade of green in his eyes she did not recognize. “Are you going to let your children do that?”

Startled, Gina could only stare back. She had not thought about children. Of course she knew she would have them; there was no question she would give her parents the grandchildren they wanted. But it was nothing she expected Michael to wonder about.

Nor did she want to think about it right now. The thought reminded her of what awaited her in Tuscany. A dull boring life married to a dull boring man who cared about only grapes and profit margins.

For the first time the idea of spending the rest of her life in an arranged, loveless marriage overwhelmed her, frightened her in a way she could not explain. Panic gripped her heart. It had been far easier to accept her parents’ wishes before she had come to New York and tasted freedom.

Before she had met Michael.

“Hey, earth to Gina.”

She blinked. “I do not want to talk about marriage or children.”

“Whoa! Who said anything about marriage?”

“You must be married to have children, yes?”

“Not necessarily, but anyway, my question was more social commentary than anything else.”

“It does not matter. I do not want to—” She stopped, confused. “What does this mean, social commentary?”

“It means I was making a point about how child rearing has changed. How it may not be a good idea to introduce children to alcohol at such an early age.”

“Will you have children?”

He seemed startled. “Sure. Someday.”

“Soon?”

“I thought we were trying to decide which movie to see.” He stuck his nose in the newspaper again. “We’d better choose one pretty damn quick or it’ll be too late to go out.”

“Not for dancing.”

“Gina, what did I tell you?”

“Fine.” She set aside her glass. “If you do not want to go, I will go by myself.”

“Right.”

She got up from the couch and tossed back her hair. “If you are worried about Zio Antonio, he will not know I went out into the city alone.”

“You’re not going anywhere without me. And I say no dancing.”

She headed for her bedroom to change.

“Gina! I mean it.”

“You can let yourself out, Michael,” she called over her shoulder, grinning when she heard him curse.

“Gina!”

She got to her room and closed the door. The blue dress she had selected earlier hung on the valet. Kicking off her shoes, she unzipped her jeans and wondered why Michael had not knocked yet. Had he left? He would not let her go out alone, would he?

It did not matter. All she had to do was give the cabdriver the address. She had American money and a credit card. As Mike would say, no sweat.

She got out of her jeans and shirt and shimmied into the dress. After a week of wearing skimpy clothes, she decided they were not so fun, after all. Definitely not practical. She had to worry too much about how she sat and crossed her legs, and having to skip dinner twice in three days did not make her happy. She still hated the baggy black dresses, but a simple woman’s business suit would be nice. Tomorrow maybe Michael would take her shopping again. After they went to the office. The idea of sitting at his desk with him, learning what happens after the wine is bottled and shipped, appealed to her more than she would have guessed. Maybe because Michael thought she was smart and competent enough to understand the business.

If only her papa could see such things.

She would not think about that now, though. Tonight she wanted only to dance. With Michael, if he was not so stubborn.

She listened by the door but heard nothing. He could have left already. After brushing her teeth and hair, she applied fresh pink lipstick. Her palms had gotten clammy, but she told herself it would be okay to go alone.

Only one pair of shoes went with the blue dress, so she slipped them on and then checked her reflection one last time. Everything was in order except her unhappy expression. Dancing would not be fun without Michael.

Maybe she would wait another night… Or maybe he believed she would not go without him.

The thought annoyed her.

She opened the door.

Michael stood in the hall. “Are we going dancing or not?”