Page 65 of Giovanna

Dad looks baffled as if he can’t imagine anything wrong with his comments. “What? The ratbag is worse than Elio was at his age.”

Massi scowls and shoves a pile of salad in his mouth aggressively.

“I’m sure Bluey has enough sense to be professional,” I murmur. “I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to protect her.”

After dinner, I sit down opposite Dad in my office. It is strange to be behind the desk with him on the other side. He’s looking very tan, but then he and Peta did just get back from a week in the Whitsundays.

I place a glass of whiskey on the rocks in his hand and cradle my own. We sit in companionable silence, the joyous sounds of Massimo regaling his mother with an elaborate tale in the kitchen waft in the open door.

“Should I be worried about your brother?” Dad breaks the silence. He’s asking about Elio and it isn’t about his health and well-being. Dad still has a foot in the family business and while I value his mentorship, his meddling is doing my head in.

“Mmmm. For me to worry about, Dad,” I answer flatly.

“I know that, Giovanna,” he responds a little testily. “I’m not blind or deaf though and I can see he doesn’t have the respect of the men. It’s a problem.”

No shit it’s a problem. The men who dedicate their lives to working for our family see a playboy prince who is more interested in getting his dick wet than being a good leader.

“I’m doing my best. You wanted this split leadership thing…”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just sips his drink. “He needs to pull finger.”

“Yup,” I sigh, popping ‘P’ at the end of the word. As if I haven’t been battling him on this every time he is in front of me.

Bitterness poisons me and I focus on pushing it back into the box I keep it in. It wants to distract me with thoughts of how bullshit it is that I couldn’t inherit Dad’s role outright. It wants me to rage about having to sit and watch my hedonistic little brother sit in my seat and fail to live up to expectations.

“Has he managed to fuck things up anymore with Francesca?” Sandy asks.

“He’s been better the past week. I don’t know that she’ll ever forgive him though.” I pause and then continue, “She doesn’t want her parents’ marriage, Dad.”

Sandy grunts. “Her parents don’t want that marriage.”

“Dad, he doesn’t want this either.”

“Chris, Giovanna. He’s made it very fucking clear he doesn’t want to get married. You don’t need to remind me,” barks Sandy.

“I mean he doesn’t want any of this. He’s running away. Avoiding. I duno if he’s admitted it to himself, but he doesn’t want to be Don.”

“Tough!” Sandy growls. “These are the cards he has been dealt.”

“Maybe it would be best for the family if he wasn’t the Don,” Matty appears in the doorway and he is speaking very carefully. It is practically blasphemous what he is saying. “Gio has the men’s respect. It doesn’t matter that she is a woman or gay.”

The way we all hold our breath it is as if all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Our collective stress level heightens and we all assess each other, waiting for someone else to speak first.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Francesca

“Literally every man here, except the one in the Hawaiian shirt over there, is drooling over you. And Hawaiian shirt guy only isn’t because he is too busy chewing the inside of his face off,” I elbow Massi in the ribs and he grimaces at my comment and the jab.

Massimo’s ability to bring a gay club to a standstill is nothing new, but it is always a sight to behold. I swear some of these men would divorce their husbands for one night with him.

“You’re attracting plenty of looks from the ladies yourself, Ches.”

“Lol, whatever. They all assume I’m a fag hag just tagging along with you.”

“Maybe. But now I know you’re a little bit bi you might just have to make some moves,” he orders us a pair of whiskey sours and we find a high table and stools to perch on.

“No way! I told you. My attraction to women isveryexclusive.”

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