Friday morning showed up garbed in gray clouds dripping with pearls made of rain. Gia sat on the edge of her bed, brush in hand, staring out the window at the heavy sky. April was as unpredictable in Southern California as her moods these days, switching from sunshine and blue skies to heavy shrouds overnight, sometimes without warning. Gia loved the gloomy days of spring, not because they made her feel good. On the contrary, when the weather was like this, she felt like she had permission to feel a little down in the dumps, too. And since it had been such a bizarre week, she didn't think she had it in her to feel any other way today. So the rain clouds brought relief, knowing she didn't have to fake a bright smile today.
Jupiter Valentine had been on his best behavior all week. He was always at Ricardo's before she got there, and within minutes of her arrival, she had her mug of Venus Rising in hand, complete with a new bit of foam art every day. But other than those few moments of him paying special attention to her before she clocked in, during actual work hours, his behavior was above reproach. Sure, he had a bit of trouble with personal space. He tended to stand too close, and look into her eyes too attentively when she spoke to him, but she realized he was kinda that way with everyone. As though whomever he conversed with might be the only other person in the world. She couldn't complain. His undivided attention wasn't just flattering, because he actually did listen to everything she said, everything anyone said to him. He had yet to get a drink order wrong, he was already calling the regulars by name, and even during the busiest hours of the morning, he seemed to find time to interact with everyone.
At his request, she made it a practice to walk him out the back door and wait with him each afternoon just before two o'clock when he left for his classes, and she found herself looking forward to those few minutes alone. There was never enough time to get into any deep conversation, but Gia was all right with that. She actually liked getting to know him in little snippets. He spoke about his older brother, Adamo, often. The two were close and had plans to open a restaurant one day. Adamo had already completed his culinary education and was currently a sous- chef at a restaurant in Sorrento where he intended to remain until Jupiter was ready to join him in their own endeavor. Gia listened to his well-planned life with sincere fascination, but couldn't relate at all. Not because of the chef thing—clearly, Jupiter had a gift for working in the culinary world—but simply because he had a plan and was working methodically through it. She, on the other hand, had no clue what she even wanted to do beyond getting up and going to work at Ricardo's.
The wide-toothed comb she used caught in a snarl, pulling her hair and making her wince. Bending to the task of untangling the curls, she sighed deeply. It was Friday. She should be excited. The weekend was almost upon her and she had nothing planned. It was such a relief after the frenzy of the last several months of wedding activity.
Even when she had nothing on her schedule, though, in the past, she'd usually done that 'nothing' with Ricky. And Ricky hadn't called since late Monday night when she'd ignored his messages and texts.
As if on cue, her cell buzzed on the night stand where it was still plugged in. Fred Weasley showed on the screen and she swiped the text message open. Can you stop by my place just for a minute on your way to work?
No apology, no chit chat. But she knew better than to try to read between the lines with Ricky. Lately, he'd been as all over the place as a teenage boy's voice—she saluted in the general direction of Renata's house full of boys—and she didn't trust herself to be able to read him correctly with only a text.
Can you come by here instead? I'm already running a little behind and you know what cloudy days turn me into. Did that sound too carefree? Like she was pretending nothing was wrong? But she wasn't. She was being completely straightforward. She still had to shower and figure out what to wear while her hair dried, and she had to do it all while feeling like a sludge monster.
I'll be there in half an hour, Sludgy.
Gia smiled. He knew her well.
By the time she'd showered and all but emptied her closet, only to wind up wearing the first pair of 501 jeans she'd pulled out and a cobalt blue ribbed sweater that hugged her curves, she could hear Ricky's voice coming from the kitchen where he'd most likely joined Gramps for a cup of coffee at the breakfast table. She glanced at the clock. If she opted not to go in early this morning, she had some time to give him. She slipped on a pair of ankle socks and then shoved her feet into her favorite Chelsea boots from Forever 21. With her damp hair loose down her back—she'd give it a little more time to dry first and then pull it up into a top knot when she got to work—she strode down the hall to face the day.
The look on Ricky's face when she swept into the room got her a little choked up. He was so transparent sometimes and she couldn't help comparing his open and honest features to Jupiter's bottomless hooded gazes. Ricky's eyes moved over her quickly from head to toe and back again, bright with genuine appreciation, and then he stood to greet her. He didn't rush, but took his time, politely sliding his chair in before making his way around the table to get to her.
Under her grandparents' speculative regard, Gia looped her arms around his shoulders before he could say anything and hugged him. He pulled her up close and tight, and dipped his head to whisper, "Hey there, Georgy Girl."
"Hey there, yourself, Rickaroni." And all was right with the world, gray clouds and pearl raindrops included.
"Would you kids like something to eat?" Granny G asked when they'd stepped apart, a tinge of lingering awkwardness in the air between them. She didn't even bother to get up from the table. Needless to say, she wasn't surprised when they turned her offer down. "Well, there are Pop Tarts in the pantry. Won't fill you up and you'll have nothing but sugar and chemicals to fuel you for the morning, but knock yourselves out."
She said it all good-naturedly, and Gia bounced over, kissed her grandmother's soft cheek, ruffled Gramps' bed head hair. He'd been a little run down, especially since the wedding, so hopefully, the fact that he hadn't gotten all spruced up for the day before breakfast, as was his usual regime, meant he was getting extra sleep. He'd had a couple nasty colds over the winter and the girls had practically hogtied him to get him in to see his doctor after a cold had run its course, but the cough remained. Sure enough, Dr. Adler had diagnosed him with what he called walking pneumonia and had given Gramps a stern lecture on taking better care of himself. He'd gone home with a course of antibiotics and strict orders to do nothing too invigorating—which was practically against his religion—sleep lots, eat healthy, and get plenty of fluids. It had taken more than a month for Dr. Adler to give her grandfather a clean bill of health, but between Granny G and the four sisters, Gramps had come through like a trooper. Now, seeing him dragging again concerned Gia, but at least they knew what to watch for. Granny G didn't seem too worried, as far as Gia could tell, and at least he didn't have that hacking cough that had sounded so awful back in December.
Gia grabbed Ricky's hand and dragged him over to the pantry with her. She opened the door and started tugging him inside the small walk-in space with her. Suddenly, she remembered his words from the coffee shop and let go of him as if he'd shocked her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to drag you after me like that." She flashed him an embarrassed smile.
Ricky stood framed in the narrow doorway, his broad shoulders filling the space. "Hey," he said, then he reached out and took her hand back, lacing his fingers through hers. He stepped into the pantry, pulling the door half-closed behind him. "I'm sorry I said that. I'm sorry about that whole thing. It was a crap thing to pull and I was a jerk. Forgive me, please."
Gia looked up at him—grateful she'd worn her flat-soled boots so she actually could—and smiled, not caring that she was blushing. "Well, you were being a big, stinking pile of—eep!" She squealed as he tugged on her hand, hard, jerking her toward him. The tiny space was barely big enough for them to stand upright face to face, so closing the distance between them didn't really take much effort. His arms came around her again, this time in that slow, thoughtful way he did these days, drawing her tightly against him.
He was going to kiss her. Right there in Granny G's pantry, he was going to kiss her. She could see his intention written all over his face, she could feel it in the tautness of his body, in the tenderness of his embrace. She saw it shining in his eyes as he dropped his gaze to her mouth and then dragged it back to her eyes.
Not yet, a voice screamed inside her head. Not here. It's changing too fast.
Gia tensed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she rested her head against his shoulder, turning her face into his neck. He smelled like body wash and shaving cream and the cologne she'd picked out just for him. Her cheek brushed against the underside of his jaw and she noticed how smooth it was; he must have shaved just this morning. She closed her eyes and breathed him in.
A moment later, Ricky rested his cheek against the top of her head.
This. "Let's just hide out in here all day," she whispered, the words slipping out on a breath.
"We won't starve," Ricky said with a chuckle, the sound rumbling against her ear. When had his voice gotten so low? And so soothing? She suddenly recognized how wound up she'd been all week, the thrill of working with Jupiter, of being acutely aware of him at all times, knowing she'd turn and he'd be watching her, smiling, teasing. Wondering what he was thinking, what he wanted from her, why he wanted anything from her at all. On, on, on all morning long until finally, finally, he'd leave for class and she'd be able to breathe normally again. It was exhilarating and exhausting, stimulating and stressful.
But this, tucked into her grandmother's pantry with Ricky? This was sanctuary. Peace. Comfort.
This was shelter.
This was... safe.
A trickle of resistance skittered down her spine and she straightened, pulling slowly away from him. She didn't look at him as she stepped back, putting space between them again. His hands slipped to her waist until she turned away from him and made a show of perusing the shelves for the breakfast treats, even though she knew exactly where they were. "Come on," she said, snatching the whole box from its spot next to the cereal and backing out of the pantry and out of reach of his touch. "Time to be grown-ups. You have class in an hour and I don't want to be late to work." She tried to make her voice light and breezy; she didn't want him to know how unsettled she felt.
"Wait," Ricky said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back into the tiny room. "I have to ask you something. Two things."
She shuffled forward a few steps but stayed in the open doorway and leaned against the frame. She grinned up at him, finally braving a look at his face. "You mean, you didn't just come over to apologize for being a turd butt the other day?"
Ricky snorted. "I supposed I've been called worse—"
"Oh, yeah. I've definitely called you worse," she agreed, pulling her hand free of his and tucking it behind her back.
"And yes, I came to apologize."
"Which you did quite nicely, thank you very much." She nudged his foot with her toe.
"You're welcome. I also came to ask you if you'd let me try to make it up to you by cooking you dinner tonight. My folks are gone again so we'll have the place to ourselves." He stepped closer and put his hands on her waist. She clutched the box of Pop Tarts to her chest. "Your favorite. My spaghetti and giant meatballs." He rocked her hips a little, almost like he was trying to shimmy loose the answer he wanted from her. "I'll get bread sticks and chocolate éclairs from Mona's, too."
"Oh wow. You really drive a hard bargain." She wrinkled her nose at him. "I don't know if I can cancel my wild and crazy Friday night plans at such short notice," she teased.
She felt him stiffen just for a moment and she wished she could take the words back. She didn't want him thinking about Jupiter right now. "Granny G will be so disappointed that I won't be able to watch 'Murder She Wrote' reruns with her."
"Then I have one more card to pull out of my sleeve," he said, relaxing his shoulders noticeably. "I'll even let you pick the movie we watch."
"Sold!" she said, almost cutting him off. She pushed out of the pantry and walked backward as she continued. "No backsies, Fredrick Thomas Zander, you hear me? Spaghetti, giant meatballs, garlic bread sticks, chocolate éclairs, and Twilight. All of them."
"Oh, please, no," he moaned. "Anything but the Cullens."
"Actually, no, not Twilight." She didn't need any reminders of Jupiter if she was spending the evening with Ricky. "How about Dirty Dancing?"
"No." He shook his head, but he was grinning. "You'll make me dance with you and I didn't say anything about dancing." He followed her as she continued to move backwards through the living room. "How about Mad Max: Fury Road?" he suggested. "You like Tom Hardy. And that Nicholas guy."
"Ha!" she retorted, rolling her eyes, knowing just how much Ricky liked the brutal Charlize Theron and her rescued bevy of beauties. "Not a chance. The Notebook?"
"No."
"You said I could pick the movie," Gia pouted, coming to a stop in the front entry. "Bye Gramps, bye Gran!" she called out, getting return salutations from the other room. She gathered her purse and coat from the coat closet and let Ricky help her into it.
"You can. You just can't pick any of those movies." Before she could come up with a rebuttal, he continued. "And the other thing I was going to ask you was if you'd like me to take you to work. That way I can pick you up at the end of the day on my way home from school and we can go home together. Save you the gas."
"But your classes don't start until nine this morning." She didn't want him sitting at Ricardo's while he waited for school to start.
"I have to do some research at the library before my first period, so I'd planned on getting there early today anyway."
Gia considered a moment longer, and then nodded. "Okay. Sure. I should let my grandparents know so they don't wonder about my car in the driveway all day."
"I already did. I told them about tonight, too."
"But they don't know I accepted your invitation," Gia reasoned.
Ricky had the grace to look sheepish as he admitted, "I kinda just told them you were doing stuff with me tonight. I figured since you were willing to let me come over this morning that it was a safe bet you'd agree to dinner, too. Sorry."
There went that frisson of resistance again, and she twitched just the tiniest bit before responding, "Safe bet. That's me." But she flashed him a smile to soften the sarcasm, and turned to head out the door in front of him.
On the front porch was a large black and white umbrella already wet from use. Ricky scooped it up and held it above their heads. "I came prepared," he said. "Stick with me, Georgy Girl, and I'll keep you safe and sound." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and together they made their way through the drizzle to his truck.
A hollow disquiet settled in her stomach at his words. Safe. Is that what she really wanted?