Always (San Francisco Brides Series Book 1) Page 9

“Your father is responsible for that mess,” Grandpop said to her. “And he should keep a better eye on you. I know all about you.”

  Gina tried to yank her arm from Vincente’s, but he held on. “How dare you—” she said.

  Vincente squeezed her hand. “Both of you, be quiet,” Vincente said. “Grandpop, you disrespected me, and my guest. What do you mean by all this?”

  “I meant to right things.” Grandpop rose and picked up a black and white photo from his desk, one Vicente didn’t recognize. “The way Celeste spoke about this girl…” He waved a hand at Gina, but kept his eyes on the photo. Gina stopped struggling and her arm relaxed slightly in Vincente’s. “She had been unlucky in love, like my Marina and I were. I thought she deserved happiness…she’s beautiful, smart, strong…a good wife for you, nipote.” Grandpop’s voice had dropped to a raspy whisper. He cleared his throat.

  “That’s why you pushed so hard for me to be at the auction…” Vincente said, the scope of Grandpop’s machinations hitting him.

  “Was my grandma in on this craziness?” Gina said.

  “No, foolish girl,” Grandpop said, his voice tired. “I was wrong. You and my grandson aren’t meant for each other. I’ve made mistakes. I made them with my children. But Carolina...” He hunched his shoulders. Then he straightened and turned. “I won’t let you and your family destroy my nipote. And that’s all a relationship with you would do to him. You’re not right for each other, just like his Marie wasn’t right for him. I knew then, and I know now.”

  Vincente’s heat flamed into anger. “Don’t.”

  Grandpop shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you. But this girl…she’s all about business, and the boyfriends she’s gone through…the last one she was engaged to, and she broke it off a month before the wedding. Yes, I had her checked out. Would you expect less of me? You deserve the best, not some woman who will hurt you like Marie did.” Grandpop bowed his head, whispering. Probably praying for forgiveness for speaking ill of the dead.

  “I had my reasons. When did this become about Vincente and me?” Gina’s voice was low. She wouldn’t look at him. “I want to make sure my family is okay.”

  “There we agree,” Grandpop said with a rueful smile. “I can’t speak for Carolina, but no one else in my family wants to hurt your family. But this—you and Vincente—would hurt them, and my family.”

  “We’re not a couple.”

  Vincente dropped her arm. They weren’t a couple. Until she said that, though, he hadn’t realized how deep his hope for a chance at that possibility was. That Grandpop had machinated that chance and then destroyed it only kept Vincente’s anger alive. And that Gina had wanted to get married made him think she wasn’t all about her career.

  Grandpop’s hands shook. He slumped into his chair, staring at the old picture again. He’d been like this when Vincente had given him the ultimatum about changing his business practices. Had he changed just to please Vincente? Did Grandpop have any real remorse about the mistakes he’d made?

  “You betrayed my trust,” Vincente said. “You can’t play with people this way. Guess that’s why Carolina thought it was okay. I’ve justified your behavior before, but I can’t do it now.”

  “You take Gina’s side? Read my file on her, Vincente, and you’ll see.”

  “No. I…Whatever Gina’s done in the past made her who she is. We’ve all made mistakes.”

  “You’re making one if you’ve fallen for Gina D’Angelo.”

  Grandpop was in a black mood. Usually he worked to help Grandpop out of it. But not this time.

  “Mr. DeGrazia, he hasn’t fallen for me.” Her voice was still soft, but firm.

  Vincente glanced at her again. He shook his head, but she still had her gaze locked on Grandpop, not him. As if he had nothing to do with this discussion.

  “I’ll promise nothing will happen between Vincente and me, if you promise your family won’t do anything to mine. And, I want proof that your businesses are legitimate, that your brother is an honorable man.”

  “Gina, I’ll give you the proof. You don’t need to make a deal with Grandpop.” Vincente turned to her, but she still stared at Grandpop.

  Grandpop made an irritated noise in his throat. “You question my brother? He’s never had anything to do with my mistakes. Maledizione! My grandson has made it necessary for me to agree to your terms. What assurance do I have that you’ll hold up your end?”

  “I swear on Our Lady, and on my grandfather’s name.”

  “Bene.”

  “It’s not good. I—“ Vincente wanted to tell her to give them a chance, at least to talk, about this, about their pasts, and the future.

  “Leave it,” Gina said. She glanced at him, finally. Her mouth was set in a determined line, her full lips pulled thin. She bit her lower lip and turned back to Grandpop.

  “Get her the books, any papers, eh?” Grandpop waved a hand at him.

  “No.” He took Gina’s hand. “I want a chance…” The words dried up as he spoke. She’d just shown him she could be a hard negotiator, and that she didn’t care about the possibilities between them.

  But Vincente cared. He fingered the ring in his pocket, the ring Grandpop had given him earlier. Dammit. He wanted that ring on Gina’s finger. Needed her in his life. He’d told himself she wasn’t right for him, but that she would do all this for her family, that she’d shared her secret with him, that maybe she wasn’t just a driven career woman…He wanted a chance. He gripped the back of the chair in front of him. She’d blown in and disarrayed his mind, his heart. He liked it. He wanted more.

  “There is no chance of anything between us,” Gina said.

  She couldn’t be any clearer than that. “I’m going,” Vincente said. “I’ll be back for the party on Saturday.”

  Grandpop looked at him. Vincente stood taller and clenched his jaw. Grandpop closed his eyes and leaned his head back into his chair.

  “I’ll speak to Nico on my way out about showing Gina everything. Don’t interfere in my life again—think what Grandma would’ve wanted.”

  Grandpop’s eyes shut tighter, the lines around his mouth deepened. Vincente’s abs tightened. His chest felt as if someone had dropped a dumbbell on him. He smoothed his finger on the ring and walked out.

  Chapter Nine

  Gina walked away from the outside gate of Vincente’s house. Nico and Mr. DeGrazia had spent over an hour with her, showing her all their books, answering almost all her questions. Though Mr. DeGrazia had been vague about his, and his family’s, past she believed him when he said that Enzo had never been involved in his less-than-legitimate former business dealings. And he’d apologized for the former enmity between their families back in Italy.

  In a way, she felt relieved, and validated. She’d taken the time to talk to Paolo and the DeGrazias, to not take on her dad’s views just because she had as a girl. She’d made up her own mind, based on her feelings, and the proof Mr. DeGrazia had shown her. She’d been working on trusting her feelings. And on seeing how she hadn’t done that in her previous relationships.

  She stopped and closed her eyes to the shimmering skyline. Vincente. How he’d looked at her, how he’d spoken to her, how he’d held her hand when she’d told him her secret, all filled her with warmth and…and more. But there couldn’t be more. It was enough that she’d made sure her family was safe from, and with, the DeGrazias. It would be enough to convince Dad to accept Grandma and Enzo. He’d never accept her and Vincente too. She wouldn’t destroy the chance of peace in their families—and for Grandma—even for a chance with Vincente. Maybe Grandma’s happiness would help Gina recreate her happiness.

  She skipped forward, like she used to when she was a girl. She tripped and skidded on her knees, almost face-planting. She pushed herself up. Her knees both streaked with blood. It wasn’t so bad. Then she stepped forward. Her knees stung and tears sprang into her eyes. She shook her head. No crying. She closed her eyes. Her body warmed again as the image of Vi
ncente, when he’d bandaged her cut at Enzo’s, flashed through her mind. She clenched her purse and walked forward.

  She had to get somewhere and clean herself up. She sucked in a breath, forcing her mind away from the stinging pain. She ran across the street. Enzo’s house was down the block. It was time she made peace with Enzo. Gina rang the doorbell. She nibbled at the inside of her lip. She hadn’t been very kind to Enzo the other day, and had rudely run out on dinner.

  The door opened. Enzo smiled at her. He appeared the dapper gentleman, as usual, his silver hair gleaming, a crisp shirt, neatly pressed slacks and Italian loafers completing the picture. “Gina, what brings you here? Celeste said you’d gone out.”

  “She’s here?” Gina glanced over his shoulder.

  Enzo nodded and motioned her in. He shut the door. “She’s in the kitchen. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “I, I wanted to say I’m sorry for being rude. I know you love Grandma, and I’m happy for you both.” She glanced at him.

  “Thank you, my dear. This means very much to me. And, your father?”

  Gina shook her head. “He’ll come around.”

  Enzo nodded. “Come.” He gently grasped her elbow, guiding her into the kitchen.

  They walked into the bright kitchen. Grandma sat at the table. She smiled when she saw Gina. Then she frowned and rose, her chair scraping behind her.

  “Dear, what happened to your knees? Enzo, please get the first aid kit.”

  Enzo’s footsteps sounded behind Gina, disappearing into the foyer.

  Grandma pulled out a chair and sat Gina in it. “Are you all right?” Grandma’s forehead crinkled in concern. She held Gina’s hand.

  “I’m fine, thanks, Grandma. I can clean up.” She tried to stand, but Grandma stayed her.

  “Let me. It will give me joy to help you. Like when you were little, remember? You were always scraping your knees and elbows. We thought Frankie would be the one climbling and jumping, but he hated getting dirty. But you…you were our little adventurer.” Grandma smiled her gentle smile.

  “And I did it again. I was skipping.” Gina smiled.

  “I’m happy. You’re getting back to yourself.” Grandma held her hand.

  Enzo entered the room and handed Grandma the kit and a damp washcloth. Enzo went to the sink. Grandma set the first aid kit on the table and pulled out cream. She patted Gina’s knees with the cloth then dabbed on some cream.

  “Do you want Band-Aids, dear? They’ve stopped bleeding.”

  Gina shook her head.

  “Have you hurt yourself somewhere else?” Grandma asked.

  “I’m okay,” Gina said.

  Enzo and Grandma let out low sighs, in unison. Gina almost smiled at how in-sync they were. Like she’d thought she and Vincente could be. She rubbed her thighs.

  “Is there something you want to talk about?” Grandma said.

  Gina shook her head. Enzo helped Grandma up. The look of concern and love on his face cemented Gina’s new, tender belief that he was the man for Grandma, that he helped her be happy.

  Grandma sat in the chair next to Gina’s. Enzo walked to the stove, pulled out a small pan, and set it on the burner. Then he went to the fridge and took the milk, pouring some into the pan. He added some cinnamon and sugar and stirred it.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” Grandma said.

  “How can we get Dad to accept this?”

  “I don’t know, dear. He might listen to you.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re his little girl.”

  She grimaced.

  “I know you’re a woman now, and your dad knows too. But it’s hard for him. He knows he made a lot of mistakes with you, with his family, but he’s so proud…and stubborn. Now that you’re grown up, he knows he can’t go back. I think he feels stuck.”

  She knew that feeling. She’d felt that in L.A., and in her old thoughts. Coming home had freed her, brought her back to herself, and maybe to a new start with her family.

  Enzo placed a cup of steamy milk and a plate of cookies on the table next to Gina.

  “I used to make this for my daughter and granddaughter whenever they were hurt or upset. You may be too mature for such treatment, but I hope you’ll excuse an old man for his quirks.” He waved a hand, as if to dismiss an eccentricity. But to Gina, it was kindness. Grandfatherly concern.

  He was kind; he had that in common with Grandpa Frank. “Thank you. No one’s ever too old for cookies and milk.” She smiled. Enzo returned the gesture.

  He sat next to Grandma and took her hand in his. Grandma beamed.

  “I hear there’s a party on Saturday,” Gina said.

  “Yes, that’s my brother. He enjoys a celebration.” Enzo spoke indulgently.

  She sipped the milk. Its sweet warmth matched her feelings. Biting the cookie’s hardness, though, reminded her that she had a hard road to convince Dad to come to that party, to give the DeGrazias a chance. A song sprang to mind, one Dad used to play: “All we are saying is give peace a chance…”

  “We D’Angelos are no strangers to celebrating.”

  “Another commonality,” Enzo said, his voice full of warmth.

  “We have more than I thought.” Now she had to convince Dad. She needed back-up.

  ***

  An hour later, Gina walked with measured steps down the block. She rubbed her forehead, hoping to stop the tightness. It had been a nice visit with Enzo and Grandma, but they’d started talking about Vincente, about how he’d done so much for the family, and the community, and she’d missed him.

  A car slowed near her. The tightness in her forehead spread to her neck, shoulders, and back.

  “Hey cuz’,” a male voice shouted.

  Gina glanced over. The car had pulled to the curb. The driver leaned over.

  Gina smiled and approached. “Hey, Joey. I was just going to call you.”

  “Hop in,” her cousin said. He leaned back, his casual posture like her brother Michael’s. But Joey had an intensity Michael lacked.

  She and Joey had gone through school together, though he’d been a grade ahead of her. He was one of the good ones. There were more good guys than she’d remembered. Being away from home had made her forget a lot of truths. She’d distanced herself, wanted to be independent, but instead she’d felt isolated, and had only remembered the bitterness and hard times instead of the joy and fun. She’d done well in school, but had continued dating men her father would dislike, out of spite, as if she could punish him through her choices. She wasn’t going to do that again with Vincente. He deserved better, and so did she.

  “Thanks.” Gina slid into the seat of Joey’s Honda Civic.

  “Were you at Gramps? I mean Enzo’s?” Joey tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “Yeah. And I know he’s your gramps, Joey.” She shifted in her seat.

  She and her dad must’ve made life more uncomfortable for Joey, Aunt Sophia, Uncle Carlo, and Janetta with their feelings about the DeGrazias—they were Joey’s family, just as much as her family was. Growing up, Gina’s dad’s cousins—Carlo, James, and Max—had been so close, she called them her uncles. But Uncle James had moved, seeing the family less and less, busy with his executive lifestyle in Malibu. Uncle Max had his career too, a dedicated police officer, and Uncle Carlo had enough drama dealing with his family and the DeGrazias. Then, just when she’d needed them most, after Dad’s only brother, Uncle Paul, died, everything blew up, their family imploded.

  Joey pulled out into traffic. “Where’re you headed?”

  Gina shrugged. “I’d like to talk. To you.”

  “How about we catch up at my cousin Lorenzo’s? I’m house-sitting while he’s on vacation. My mom’s not happy. She thinks some of Lorenzo’s women will show up and have their way with me.” Joey chuckled. Aunt Sophia was a real momma bear.

  “Sure. Doesn’t she think your uncle Sal would protect you?” Gina winked. Sal’s restaurant was on the ground floor. Though
Sal’s reputation with women wasn’t much better than ultra-player Lorenzo’s.

  “Ha. He’s crazy busy, like always. And I’ve finally landed a position with the SFPD.”

  “Congrats.” She patted his arm. Both Uncle Max and her cousin Jim were cops, and now Joey. He’d finally followed his own dream, instead of doing what his parents wanted. There was something in that.

  “Thanks, what about you?”

  “Right now, I need to keep Dad from selling.”

  “What? You’re kidding. Uncle Frank’s thinking of selling the shop?” He shook his head.

  “I know. Crazy, right?” What was nuts was how much she had changed since coming home. She’d lost touch with her family, with herself, and now she trusted again, felt a part of them, craziness and all.

  “You must have a lot on your mind, trying to solve this.” Joey pulled into the parking lot behind Sal’s.

  Her cheeks heated. “That’s what Vincente said.” Hearing the longing in her voice made her clasp her hands.

  Joey turned to her. His blue-green eyes, like Uncle Max’s and her dad’s, unnerved her more, as if he could see right through her pretences. “Glad you’ve talked to him. He’s a good listener.”

  She nodded and hopped out of the car. She waited for Joey and followed him up the back stairs. They passed the hall to Sal’s flat on the second floor, then up to the top floor.

  “When’s Lorenzo back?” She asked as Joey unlocked the door.

  “In time for the wedding. It’s been good, having privacy. I really need to find my own place.”

  She nodded. Joey lived with his parents. Living in San Francisco wasn’t cheap. She glanced around the Spartan flat. The hall led to an open living space, a kitchen to the right, and another hall probably leading to bedrooms. She slid into the leather chair. “Nice. Wish I could help you find something, but...”

  He sat on the black leather sofa. “I know. It’s tough finding a place. And to disappoint the family.” He chuckled and rubbed a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “How about some dinner from downstairs? If Uncle Sal knows you’re here, he might deliver.”

  She smiled. “I’d love it. Does he still make that Risotto Primavera?”