Chapter 7
Betty picked Justin up and drove into the city. "You look nice," she said, eyeing the zoot suit he was wearing. The dark color complimented his skin tone and the vertical, white lines accentuated his height and lanky build.
Readjusting the kerchief in his front pocket, he looked over at her and smiled. "So do you, Aunt Betty. Thanks for taking me."
She returned the smile. As disappointed as she was at not having a real date to the ball, she was glad to take Justin. And she felt good about the way she looked. "It's not a problem, Justin. Thank you for not making me go alone."
They chatted as they made their way to the Meade building. The family had remodeled the third floor into a hall in order to have company banquets, galas, and balls in the building. Alexis had thought that it would be a great way to remind clients and enemies alike why they were there and who ran the magazine industry. It turned out to be a very lucrative business decision.
As they got out of the car and into the elevators, Betty was becoming more and more excited. She had been waiting for this party for months. And although she had still never attended an event like this with a boyfriend, she was thrilled to be attending at all.
Until she reached their table.
She saw Kat first, beautiful in her navy blue period dress, her hair pulled back. She was laughing joyously and about to take a sip of wine. Betty smiled; she had to admit that the young woman's personality was infectious and she enjoyed being around her. She was glad to be sitting with her. But then she saw who Kat was laughing with.
Gio.
Kat had brought Gio to the ball. It stung that he could laugh and smile with Kat. There had been a time when she was the one he tried to make laugh, the one he would smile at. She still remembered all of his different smiles, the playful one, the hint of a smile when his eyes were warm, the ear-to-ear smile he had when he was excited, the small smile of sadness. She knew them all but never saw any of them directed her way anymore. All she got from him now were apologies, anger, and disdain. She feared that all of her hopes for a happy night had been dashed. But she stood straight, her shoulders back, and she swore to herself that she would have a great night anyway—Gio be damned.
Taking a deep breath, she put her arm around Justin's and went over to the table. When Gio saw them approaching, he and the other two men at the table stood up. When she saw him from head to toe, her will weakened considerably. His hair was styled as usual, but it seemed even more dashing when accompanied by the black tuxedo he was wearing. The shirt underneath was a clean white and made his eyes spark. The kerchief in his front jacket pocket was a silk navy blue that matched Kat's dress. His shoes shined black and he stood with all of the confidence that age and success can give. He may not have been the most handsome man she had ever seen, but he was to her. She let out a slight gasp at how beautiful he was and later hoped that he or no one else had heard it.
Gio's eyes trained on her the moment he saw her walk in. He was surprised to see her with Justin instead of a date, but then remembered how much she relied on family. He had always admired that about her because he had been taught to do the same.
He had been telling a story to Kat when he saw her. He could faintly hear her laughing next to him. Everything seemed to stop when Betty walked in. He had always found her attractive, but tonight she was a vision. She was wearing a soft lavender dress that complimented her olive skin and dark hair. The dress fell to the floor in a wavy, 40s design that curved with her figure and left everything wonderfully to the imagination. Her hair was pulled partially back so that it fell around her neck in large, soft curls. She looked like she had just stepped out of an old movie. When he stood up to greet them, he hoped that his knees would hold him.
They looked at each other silently for several moments until Justin finally spoke. "Gio!"
Gio dragged his eyes away from Betty and broke out into a wide grin. "Hey, hey!" he said brightly, shaking the young man's hand. "How are you, Justin?"
Humbly yet excited, he said, "I'm good. I'm graduating this year and I got into Parsons Design School."
"That is great, man. Congratulations!" He watched them take their seats across from him and Kat and said, "Your mom must be so proud."
Justin chuckled. "She only tells every customer she has that I'm going. Even the ones she has already told." The table laughed and small chatters began amongst the other two couples at the table. Feeling awkward, Justin asked, "So how's your daughter?"
Betty hit him on the leg and Justin jumped. Gio saw the interaction, but ignored it, saying, "Annie's really good. Thank you for asking. She loves baseball and first grade."
Shifting in her seat, Betty said solemnly, "That's a great age."
He nodded. "Yeah," he said, "but I think I'm enjoying it more than she is. I'm dreading when she's sixteen."
Kat put her hand on Gio's knee. "What you're dreading are the boys like you."
He smiled at her. "That is most likely true."
A wave of jealousy rushed through Betty as she watched Kat receive another smile she would never get. "Just don't ever let one take her on a carriage ride. That's where all the trouble starts," she muttered.
His eyes flew over to hers. "Well, when my daughter does turn sixteen, the first thing I plan to teach her is to not be with one boy while playing another. I think that's where the trouble really starts."
Anger seared through her and she was just about to retort when Claire Meade began talking over the microphone, thanking everyone there and telling them that dinner was about to be served.
They stayed civil for the rest of the night, but rarely took their eyes off each other. Gio even stole a hard glance at Betty before he looked over at Kat and said, "Do you want to dance?"
Kat's smile had considerably faded as the night went on, but she agreed and they headed hand in hand to the dance floor.
Betty's eyes followed their every step until she was distracted by someone else's dancing. A few feet away from them, Brant was dancing with his date, a tall and blonde beauty that looked unmistakably like a model. Her eyes darted from Brant to Gio and back, then back again. This night had unequivocally been one of the worst nights of her life.
Justin saw her disappointment. "Aunt Betty, would you like to dance?"
She blinked heavily and gave him a small smile. "No, it's okay, Justin. But thank you. Tonight just wasn't my night. I hope I haven't ruined your evening."
"Are you kidding?" he said, shaking his head. "This was amazing! I just wish you were happier."
She patted his arm. "Thank you."
Kat could feel that Gio's body was stiff around hers. His arm was awkward and his hand was barely touching hers. When she looked up at him, she saw that he was still looking at Betty. This was to be their first real date. She had asked him days ago and he had accepted, but it wasn't going at all as she thought it would.
"It was nice to see Justin again," he said casually. "My little sister's graduating this year too."
"Congratulations," she said with more gumption than she felt.
"It's strange that Betty brought him here, though. Didn't you tell me she was seeing someone?"
She nodded. "Our Creative Director," she said, pointing him out. "Rumor is, he dumped her for that glamazon he's dancing with."
"Classy," he snorted. "No wonder Betty's in a peach of a mood."
She sighed. "Do you know?"
Her words shook him out of his reverie. He finally looked down at her. "What?"
"Do you know how often you look at Betty?"
His forehead wrinkled and he shook his head. "What are you talking about?"
Her voice was calm but disappointed. "You have had your eyes on her ever since she walked into the room."
Instinctively, he backed away from her, but still held her in the dance. "I've barely talked to her all night, Kat."
She looked down at the floor and let out the air she had been holding. "You don't have to talk to her, Gio. The way you look at her says it all."
"I'm not looking at her."
She lifted her head back up to see him. "The fact that you can't talk to her proves that you have feelings."
"What are you saying?"
She gently pulled away from his embrace and said, "Until you figure out your feelings for Betty, I think we should stop seeing each other. Privately I mean, outside of the magazine."
He put out his hand. "Kat—"
She said firmly, "I'm going home, Gio. Have a good night. I hope you call me when you figure things out." She retrieved her purse from the table, made an excuse to Justin and Betty for her leaving, and left the room.
They looked at each other and then at Gio who was standing in the middle of the dance floor alone. Justin said quickly yet assuredly, "Aunt Betty, I think you should go dance with Gio."
She choked out a laugh. "What? No, that's crazy."
Nudging her with his elbow, he said, "Go on. You know you want to."
Looking at a confused Gio, she stood up and walked over to him. He looked at her with even more confusion, so she said, "Kat told us she wasn't feeling well and had to leave."
He glanced down and said softly, "Yeah, she wasn't in the mood to stay for the party."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah."
Betty wrung her hands together as she said, "Would you like to dance?"
His head whipped up towards her. "With you?"
With a smile, she said, "I don't see anyone else offering and I think your dance card is empty."
The band began playing lively 40s jazz and Gio put his arm around her, taking her hand in his. They were awkward at first, but each step became easier until they were dancing with the comfort of years passed.
Swallowing a little pride, Betty looked past Gio's shoulder as she said, "You look good tonight, Gio."
For the first time, the hint of a genuine smile danced over his features. "You look like Lauren Bacall tonight."
She cocked her head thoughtfully to the side. "Thank you, but I was going for Audrey Hepburn."
"No, Bacall is much better."
Her hips and feet matched his perfectly as they moved quickly and jauntily to the beat. "Why is that?"
His arm reflexively pulled her tighter, their clothes slightly brushing against each other. "Hepburn is sweet. The original American dream. She's class and beauty personified."
Her voice became strained, saying, "And that's not me?"
His smile became a bit wider at her annoyance. "No. Perfect is boring. And you are neither perfect nor boring."
She squinted at him, not ready to take either as a compliment. "And what is Lauren Bacall?"
He looked up at the ceiling as if searching for words. "She's mysterious. Gutsy. She knows what she wants and she's not afraid to say it. She was the kind of woman that made a tough guy like Humphrey Bogart drop to his knees and fall head over heels. And that, Betty, is much more interesting than Audrey Hepburn."
Her mouth parted. She was stunned by what he had said. He had not talked to her like this, held her like this for years and she had never expected him to again. Instead of thanking him, she smiled back at him and said quietly, "Why didn't you tell me about your daughter?"
Relaxed now, he let the music and the woman in his arms take him away. "There was nothing to tell."
"I could have handled it."
His head went back and forth. "No, I mean, when I knew you, there was nothing to tell."
Her brows furrowed. "What?"
"When I was in Italy, I got a call from my mother that my sister had died."
Betty's eyes went wide. "Nella?"
"No, my older sister. Marie. She had a two year old daughter. The father had disappeared long ago. Nella was too young and my parents were too old. So I returned home immediately and adopted Annie myself."
Betty played with his lapel with the tips of her fingers. "But why is her name Giovanna? I thought that was for you."
He shook his head. "No, I'm a junior. My father's name is Giovanni Rossi, Sr."
She looked into his eyes, almost desperate for the answer. "Why didn't you tell me all of this before?"
He shrugged. "I felt like I was protecting her. She's my daughter. I never considered her adopted. She is mine. Completely."
"You didn't have to protect her from me."
He pulled her even closer without noticing, his smile even bigger again. "I know. I'm sorry."
They danced in silence for several minutes until the band changed to something slow. The saxophone was playing and Betty and Gio's movements became smaller and slower. Betty's eyes closed. "You know, it's nice."
He was observing her features when he asked, "What is?"
"This," she said, raising her free hand to wave between them. "You and me. I never thought we'd be like this again."
His body immediately tensed and the smile was gone. "We're not like that again."
Shocked by how quickly he changed, her jaw dropped and she said, "I meant as friends."
Clearing his throat, he said, "I know what you meant and I don't think you can just be friends with a man."
She pulled away from him. "How dare you say that to me! I won't stand for it."
People began gawking when Gio said, "Tell me, Betty. Am I the only one you won't let get away with things or are you a regular ball buster with every man you meet?" His face came closer to hers as he said, "If I recall correctly, you're not."
Betty waved her hand dismissively. "Like you're some knight in shining armor to be proud of. You've been nothing more than a nuisance to me since the day I met you!"
Gio's face twisted arrogantly and he stepped even closer. "But you can't stay away from me can you? You shouldn't have that much pride either, Miss Suarez."
Brant came bounding up between them and put his hand out in front of Gio. "That's enough," he said. "I think you should leave."
Gio snarled at him, barking, "If you wanted to have an opinion, you shouldn't have dumped her in the first place."
"The same goes for you, Gio!" Betty shot back.
He wagged his finger at her. "Oh, no. I didn't dump you. You ran."
Betty stepped towards him fierily. "And now I know why."
"Yeah," he said, gesturing at Brant, "so you could go off gallivanting with someone like Mr. Floss-A-Lot here who's going to ditch you the next time he sees something better."
The next thing Gio knew, he was on the floor, his eye pounding, Brant standing over him.
The band had stopped playing and Justin ran over to help. Pointing at Brant, Betty said, "Just go. You've done enough." She didn't take the time to watch him walk away as he tried to apologize to her. Betty then told Justin to help her pick Gio up. Once he was upright, she tossed Justin her keys and said, "Take my car back to Queens. Just go home and don't stop anywhere. I want my car in tact when I go get it tomorrow."
"What about you?" he asked.
"I'll take a cab," she reassured him. "Just go." Justin darted off and left the building.
Gio tried to wrest his arm away from Betty, saying, "I can catch a cab, too. Now."
She gripped his arm tighter. "Oh, no," she said. "You're going up to my office. We need to get something cold on your eye and then we need to talk."
"And the night keeps getting better," he grumbled.
Through the elevator, they could hear the faint beat of the band once they had struck up again. Betty guided him towards her office when they were on her floor.
Gio looked around the large room with his good eye. "Swanky. You've done well for yourself."
"Don't be patronizing or smart," she said, settling him down on a chair next to her desk. She left the room dark save for the light coming through the windows from the glow of the cityscape. "I'm tired of you being an ass tonight."
He watched her go to the small refrigerator in the corner. "I thought that was a part of my charm."
"Hardly." She got out a can of Coke and took it to him, putting it over his eye. Holding the can against him, she held a breath in her chest. "What happened, Gio?"
He winced, the cold stinging his already developing bruise. "Before or after Captain Amazing gave me a black and blue?"
She took the can away so that she could see him completely. "Why did you cause that scene tonight?"
Rubbing his face, he said, "Well, let's see. First of all, the best woman I've met in a long while left me in the middle of a ball room and then your boyfriend punched me in the face. Now, I'm no expert, but it seems to me that both of those events lead back to you."
"Me?"
He nodded. "Yes, you are the cause of my current problems tonight. And the saddest and funniest part of all of this is that he wasn't the first of your boyfriends to try to knock me out." Pointing at her, he said, "You know, they tend to get violent when I'm too close to you." He sighed, looking down and shaking his head. "Maybe that should tell me something."
He stood up to leave but she blocked him, putting her hand on his chest. "Now, wait a minute," she said. "I have spent the last few weeks fighting with you up and down New York City and I'm tired of it."
"Good. Me too," he said, trying to side step her.
She stood in front of him, cutting him off again. "Tonight, I felt it. And I know you did, too. For a moment, we were nice to each other again. It felt like old times. But as soon as I mentioned it, you got nasty."
He looked at her coldly as if he were bored. "What's your point?"
Pain and anger flashed through her eyes and she felt as though she may cry. "Why are you being so damn mean?"
His last nerve snapped and his eyes focused on hers, boring through her. "I'm so damn mean because I can't be nice to you. I want you to hate me. I want you to want me to go away." He looked at her with the same amount of hurt and anger. "I don't want to let you in again."
Her hands became fists and she shook them, frustrated. "Why?"
He saw that every ounce of her wanted him to explain, wanted him to let go of his pain and anger. He saw the glow in her eyes and the pout of her lip. Instead of answering her, he grabbed her head with both hands and pulled her towards him, his lips falling hard on hers. She tried to yank away from him, but he dropped one hand from her head and put it around her back, bringing her hips firmly next to his.
She whimpered and cried as her hands fought to find something to take her away from him, but as his tongue slid in her mouth while his hand slid to her bottom, her fighting hands began gripping at the material on his jacket, wrinkling the fabric as she desperately tried to hold on.
He poured all of his hurt, all of his frustration and anger into every kiss, every groan, every touch. She did the same. She grabbed at his hair and tugged hard, causing him to grunt. He nipped her bottom lip with his front teeth and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
He bent his head down, smelling her warm, flowery perfume before he licked her neck from her collar bone to her earlobe. Her head came up and she sighed at the ecstasy of the feeling. Running her hands over his stubble, she wished she could feel that roughness against her body and she rubbed her cheek against his. His hand came up to her breast and he kneaded it hard, flicking his thumb against her nipple. He delighted in her long moan and soft curse. He was about to bring his tongue down to make the same movement as his thumb, but she stopped him by putting her hands on his shoulders.
"No," she said, "I have to go back out there."
He knew she meant that she didn't want a wet spot on her dress for when she went back to the party and the dismissal fueled his anger and agitation. He tugged off his jacket and threw it on the floor. He held her waist with both hands and grinded his hips against hers. "Don't worry, Betty. After we're done, it will be a while before your legs start moving again."
"You arrogant bastard," she growled into his ear before she bit at his earlobe hard enough to make him wince.
His hands still on her hips, he swiftly glided her to her desk and pushed off a clearing with one sweep of his hand. She helped sit herself on the desk, her bottom on the edge. She put her legs close to his sides, holding him close to her. She kissed him this time, stroking his tongue suggestively with her own. Then she massaged his bottom lip with her mouth, running her tongue across the delicate skin. She kissed his bruise, causing him to grunt in pain again. Grabbing the back of her head, he braced her so that she wasn't lying back. She helped him unzip and unbutton his pants and then hike up the skirt of her dress.
He looked into her eyes and with a smirk said, "No going back now. You sure you want to do this?"
With her legs, she nudged him closer, squeezing him between her calves. "I'm here, aren't I?"
Taking a condom from his wallet, he slipped it on. He put one of his hands on the desk while bracing her again with the other. Without ceremony, he slid inside her as he stood firmly next to the desk, leaning over it. They both softly cried out as he entered her. He pumped long, hard strokes into her. She clung to him, her legs still wrapped around him, her arms around his neck, her fingers searching through his hair and then over his face.
She had never felt the need for this type of sex before. She was usually one to like gentle and romantic. But as he slid in and out of her, nearly leaving her each time and sliding deeper in with each move, she wanted him to continue. She wanted to fight him for it, her body arching against his. Scratching her nails against the cloth on his back, she panted, "Harder, Gio, please?"
"Do you like this?" he said, breathing heavy now.
"Yes," she cried. "Please, more." She flexed her legs even harder.
He teased her more, moving softer, slower, as he said, "I'm the only one that could ever make you feel like this, couldn't I?"
She clawed at his shoulders, begging him to continue. "Yes! You know you are!"
That was all he needed to hear and he began moving faster again, grinding into her in circular motions, rubbing against her completely exposed bottom. "So are you," he said through grinding teeth, lowering her down onto the desk now so that her back was flat against it.
"I'm what?" With a free hand, he went underneath her dress and laid it flat on her stomach, putting pressure against her as he pumped deeper and deeper. Her eyes rolled back and she bit at her bottom lip. "I'm what?" she repeated, almost shouting.
He lowered the hand until it found her hot and wet center. Taking his index and middle finger he circled her exposed bud. With each motion of his fingers, he moved them faster and harder as he done the same inside her. "You're the only one that can make me feel like I'm living and dying in the same moment," he said, licking his lips as he watched her writhe beneath him.
His fingers went back and forth so hard that her whole body felt like it was itching until the itches turned to flickers and the flickers into flames. Her ears rang and her breath stopped in her chest. Her hands reached out to grab for his shirt and face, her legs shaking as he still moved even harder inside her. She yelled out for what felt like a lifetime as she came, sweat pouring into her designer dress. Her body milked his until he could no longer take it and he came moments after her. He rested against her legs and the desk until her finally left her and threw the condom in the nearest trash can.
She lay there, spent, until all rationality came back. She couldn't see his smile in the darkness and didn't know he was about to lean over her and kiss her gently on the lips. Before he could, she sat up, the back of her hand to her forehead and said, "I think you should go."
He almost laughed until he realized she was being serious. "What?"
Still sitting on the desk, she readjusted her dress as best as she could. "I never want to see you again."
He grabbed his jacket in a bunch with his fist. "Why are you doing this?"
She swept a tear that was brimming from her eye. "What we did is wrong. You and I are wrong." She looked down at her lap and said quietly, "Just go."
He put his cheek next to her ear and said hotly and thickly, "Don't try to get up. Like I told you, you won't be able to for a while."
She squeezed her eyes shut and refused to touch him by shoving him away. "Just get out!"
He opened the door, turned back, and looked at her silhouette encased in the window. "You'll want me again someday. I won't be here the next time."
She flinched when he slammed the door. She cried for half an hour. She waited until three in the morning to leave her office, too weak to move and way too embarrassed to go back to the party.
She had made him leave because she was ashamed of herself. She had wanted him all of this time. She had wanted him ever since she had told him to leave five years ago. She loved him. She was in love with him. And instead of expressing herself in a dignified way, she had rough, rowdy, slutty sex. He would never look at her again the way she wanted him to. He would not respect her. She didn't respect herself. She had sold herself out, their potential out, for amazing sex.
She was not Lauren Bacall. And now, because of her embarrassing display, he would never be her Bogart.
………………………………
He caught the first cab he saw and ordered the driver to take him home. He stewed in the backseat the forty-some blocks. He was glad that Annie was staying with his parents for the weekend because he couldn't deal with putting a happy face on for her tonight.
He threw his suit jacket on the nearest chair and went into the kitchen to get a beer. It had been quite a revealing night and he wanted to forget most of it.
He was going to have to call Kat in the morning and he knew that would be an uncomfortable conversation. He wasn't even sure what he was going to tell her, but she was a good woman and she deserved some sort of explanation.
Uncontrollably replaying the events of the evening in his mind, he could once again see Betty as she walked towards the table with Justin in arm. Damn, she had looked so beautiful. As much as he tried to push her away, as much as he tried to convince himself that he didn't find her attractive, he had engrained into memory every loose strand of hair, every smile, every sparkle that had been in her eye that night.
And he damn well had committed every touch, lick, and kiss she had given him tonight as well. He hated that the thoughts wouldn't go away. He hated that he still felt turned on by his memory's images of her. He could still smell her scent on his skin, on his clothes.
But she didn't want him. For whatever reason this time, she had decided that they were wrong.
As much as he wanted to agree with her, he didn't. He had lied to himself for five years, but now that he had been with her, had been inside her, he knew for sure that there was no one else who was right for him. He had buried the feelings for years, but they escaped from him now like a tidal wave rushing over him. He was in love with Betty Suarez.
And she didn't love him back. She didn't even want to look at him or be in the same room with him ever again.
He took a swig of his beer and sat down on his bed. For the first time since his sister had died, he cried.
TBC
