This Same Earth
Page 18
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He caught the small smile she tried to hide and held up his cup of coffee, inhaling deeply.
“Why do you even order it, Gio?”
“I told you, I like the way it smells.”
Beatrice shook her head and leaned back in the plush chair. She closed her eyes and he allowed his gaze to caress her face while she was unaware. He’d been dancing around his feelings for well over a month, and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep silent.
He forced himself to remain casual, more interested in regaining her trust than in satisfying himself. Tenzin’s admonition to be patient seemed more and more apt every day.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “I have a favor to ask, which you are in no way obligated to grant, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”
She kept her eyes closed but mumbled, “Does it involve blood donation?”
“Are you offering?”
Beatrice cracked one eye open and grimaced. “No.”
“Then how about taking Ben to the doctor?”
Her head shot up. “Why? Is he okay?”
“Nothing to worry about that I know of. He just needs a regular doctor. And you wouldn’t even have to go in with him—I’m sure he’d be mortified if you did—just drive him. He needs a checkup and none of the pediatricians in the area have evening hours. I can write a note as his guardian, of course.”
She thought for a moment before she nodded. “I can do that. Let me get my schedule for next week and I’ll see what days would be best.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Oh! Next week is Thanksgiving. That might not be the best week to go.”
He nodded. “You are the one doing the favor, so you let me know what day will work for you. I’ll make the appointment from there. And thank you again.”
She shrugged. “I’m refusing to work for you, so it’s the least I can do.”
“I really wish you’d reconsider your—”
“I’m sure you would,” she interrupted, “but I’m very happy at the Huntington.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Translating and researching for scholars with less intelligence than you? Taking orders from someone you could run circles around intellectually? It must be so stimulating, tesoro.”
“Don’t start, or I’ll leave.”
He exhaled and let his head fall back into the armchair. “Fine, I’ll refrain from stating the obvious.”
“Just…” she sighed. “It’s only been a month. Give me time to have you back in my life like this. Give me some time to make room for you on my terms.”
Why don’t you get rid of the excess boyfriend? That should leave exactly the right amount of room. He thought it but bit his tongue and smiled. “Of course.”
“So what are you and Ben doing for Thanksgiving? Going back to Houston?”
“No, no, we’re going back to Texas for Christmas, but I thought we’d stay around here for a quiet meal.”
Her mouth dropped open exactly how he had imagined the granddaughter of Isadora De Novo’s would. “What? You’re going to feed the child spaghetti for Thanksgiving dinner?”
Giovanni shrugged. “Well, he’s never celebrated it properly anyway. And I thought I’d try to make that macaroni and cheese he likes. I think I’d be able to manage that. We didn’t do much last year, either.” He frowned. “Of course, I think we were still fighting about stealing from my wallet last year.”
“You’re bringing him over to my place,” she stated. “The boy’s never even had a turkey dinner? What are you thinking, Gio?”
I’m thinking I wrangled exactly the invitation to your house I’ve been looking for. “Beatrice, you really don’t—”
“Are you kidding me? Mac and cheese? You can barely manage spaghetti from a jar. And my grandmother would die if she heard I let you feed that kid junk food on Thanksgiving. Come over to my house. Sunset’s before five now, I’ll make dinner for six-thirty. Bring some wine.”
He smothered his satisfied smile. “Thank you. I’m sure Benjamin will appreciate the decent meal. As will I.”
She shook her head and muttered under her breath. “Macaroni and cheese…”
The following Thursday, he was trying to convince Ben that a collared shirt would not inflict bodily injury.
“She wears Docs! She’d like my CBGB’s shirt way better. It’s vintage. Vintage is better than a tux to a Doc Marten girl.”
“It most certainly is not, Benjamin. And be grateful I’m not making you wear a tie.”
“Oh man, I’m not wearing a tie. No way!”
Giovanni tucked in a dark green button down shirt and fastened the buttons at his wrists. “Trust me, women always appreciate a well-dressed man.”
The boy looked at him suspiciously as he pulled on his hated dress shoes. “I don’t know. She’s not your girlfriend yet.”
He smirked. “Well, there’s another lesson. Things and people of value are worth waiting for.”
“If you say so.”
“I know so.”
“Hey, Gio?”
“Yes?”
Ben’s face was free of its usual sarcasm when Giovanni looked at him. “I get why you love her so much. She’s pretty great.”
He smiled at the perceptive boy. “I have only the finest taste in people.”
“Why do you even order it, Gio?”
“I told you, I like the way it smells.”
Beatrice shook her head and leaned back in the plush chair. She closed her eyes and he allowed his gaze to caress her face while she was unaware. He’d been dancing around his feelings for well over a month, and it was becoming increasingly harder to keep silent.
He forced himself to remain casual, more interested in regaining her trust than in satisfying himself. Tenzin’s admonition to be patient seemed more and more apt every day.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “I have a favor to ask, which you are in no way obligated to grant, but I thought I’d ask anyway.”
She kept her eyes closed but mumbled, “Does it involve blood donation?”
“Are you offering?”
Beatrice cracked one eye open and grimaced. “No.”
“Then how about taking Ben to the doctor?”
Her head shot up. “Why? Is he okay?”
“Nothing to worry about that I know of. He just needs a regular doctor. And you wouldn’t even have to go in with him—I’m sure he’d be mortified if you did—just drive him. He needs a checkup and none of the pediatricians in the area have evening hours. I can write a note as his guardian, of course.”
She thought for a moment before she nodded. “I can do that. Let me get my schedule for next week and I’ll see what days would be best.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Oh! Next week is Thanksgiving. That might not be the best week to go.”
He nodded. “You are the one doing the favor, so you let me know what day will work for you. I’ll make the appointment from there. And thank you again.”
She shrugged. “I’m refusing to work for you, so it’s the least I can do.”
“I really wish you’d reconsider your—”
“I’m sure you would,” she interrupted, “but I’m very happy at the Huntington.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Translating and researching for scholars with less intelligence than you? Taking orders from someone you could run circles around intellectually? It must be so stimulating, tesoro.”
“Don’t start, or I’ll leave.”
He exhaled and let his head fall back into the armchair. “Fine, I’ll refrain from stating the obvious.”
“Just…” she sighed. “It’s only been a month. Give me time to have you back in my life like this. Give me some time to make room for you on my terms.”
Why don’t you get rid of the excess boyfriend? That should leave exactly the right amount of room. He thought it but bit his tongue and smiled. “Of course.”
“So what are you and Ben doing for Thanksgiving? Going back to Houston?”
“No, no, we’re going back to Texas for Christmas, but I thought we’d stay around here for a quiet meal.”
Her mouth dropped open exactly how he had imagined the granddaughter of Isadora De Novo’s would. “What? You’re going to feed the child spaghetti for Thanksgiving dinner?”
Giovanni shrugged. “Well, he’s never celebrated it properly anyway. And I thought I’d try to make that macaroni and cheese he likes. I think I’d be able to manage that. We didn’t do much last year, either.” He frowned. “Of course, I think we were still fighting about stealing from my wallet last year.”
“You’re bringing him over to my place,” she stated. “The boy’s never even had a turkey dinner? What are you thinking, Gio?”
I’m thinking I wrangled exactly the invitation to your house I’ve been looking for. “Beatrice, you really don’t—”
“Are you kidding me? Mac and cheese? You can barely manage spaghetti from a jar. And my grandmother would die if she heard I let you feed that kid junk food on Thanksgiving. Come over to my house. Sunset’s before five now, I’ll make dinner for six-thirty. Bring some wine.”
He smothered his satisfied smile. “Thank you. I’m sure Benjamin will appreciate the decent meal. As will I.”
She shook her head and muttered under her breath. “Macaroni and cheese…”
The following Thursday, he was trying to convince Ben that a collared shirt would not inflict bodily injury.
“She wears Docs! She’d like my CBGB’s shirt way better. It’s vintage. Vintage is better than a tux to a Doc Marten girl.”
“It most certainly is not, Benjamin. And be grateful I’m not making you wear a tie.”
“Oh man, I’m not wearing a tie. No way!”
Giovanni tucked in a dark green button down shirt and fastened the buttons at his wrists. “Trust me, women always appreciate a well-dressed man.”
The boy looked at him suspiciously as he pulled on his hated dress shoes. “I don’t know. She’s not your girlfriend yet.”
He smirked. “Well, there’s another lesson. Things and people of value are worth waiting for.”
“If you say so.”
“I know so.”
“Hey, Gio?”
“Yes?”
Ben’s face was free of its usual sarcasm when Giovanni looked at him. “I get why you love her so much. She’s pretty great.”
He smiled at the perceptive boy. “I have only the finest taste in people.”