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I like the way she says my name.
"Yes. I do." It's the honest truth.
I leave no room for question or negotiation in my response, so she changes the subject. "So do you want to talk about the weather or something more interesting?" She rolls her eyes and leans back in her seat.
Oh, she is a nosy one. Fine, I get straight to the point "Something more interesting. Tell me about your boyfriend." I turn the tables on her, her eyes widen, and she snickers.
"Boyfriend?"
"Yes. Who are you seeing right now?" I guess the jealous side of me won over the logic of keeping it low-key at dinner. I need to know if I have any competition.
"I am not seeing anyone. Nor am I interested in seeing anyone. If you must know, your brother was the last person I was involved with, and he left --- scars." Her tone is closed off, and this topic is suddenly off-limits.
Scars? I wonder what she means by that. As she said it, she wrapped her arm protectively around her own waist and her gaze dropped to the floor. I have a feeling she doesn't mean only the emotional kind. Rage boils inside of me. That fucking bastard. If he was here right now, I might rip his throat out.
"Gianna, I am so sorry. My brother is an animal. He damages the lives of everyone he is involved with. Family and friends alike." I have been making apologies for him my whole life.
She lifts her head and I see her green eyes shine with the threat of tears. Blinking sharply, she quickly hides it behind her gorgeous dark, long lashes. "You don't get along with him?" She asks as if I would be close to the maniac.
"Absolutely not. He destroyed my marriage. I mean he didn't do it alone. My ex-wife was not exactly a reluctant player in the game, and they are still seeing each other to this day." She is quiet but slowly relaxes her body again.
"I am sorry you went through all of that, Hudson. I know how painful it is to be hurt by people close to you." She raises her wine glass in the air. "Here is a toast to shallow graves for those assholes." She giggles a mischievous teasing sound and takes a sip of her wine. How she goes from tender and vulnerable to laughing in seconds is quite astounding to me. It is a talent of resilience I am beginning to admire in her.
Behind us, a woman walks in with two children in tow. The youngest is crying. He looks about five years old and being a father, my instinct is to comfort him. But I try and ignore the scene and stay out of other people's business.
The women are wearing far too much makeup and heels higher than the paved walkways should allow. She looks overdone and out of place. But I guess this is one of the richest estates in the area and what else would I expect to find here but overdone housewives. I glance over at Gianna, a beautiful hard-working working and down-to-earth woman who seems, despite my first assumption, to have a kind heart.
The woman tugs hard on her son's arm, and he cries louder. Gianna is looking unsettled in her seat. She sips her wine and says nothing, but her eyes are glued to the scene. I can see she is uncomfortable with what she is watching.
When the woman turns threatening to spank her son I am about to stand and break my code of not being involved but Gianna is already out of her seat and walking over to her.
"Excuse me." She sounds polite but there is fire in her eyes. "Do I need to call child services or are you going to keep your bad attitude on a leash rather than taking it out on a child?" The woman scowls at her.
"Mind your manners." Gianna steps even closer.
"I most certainly will not mind my manners. In fact, I believe I should call them right now." She turns to grab her purse and pulls out her phone.
My heart is thundering in my chest, and I find myself so turned on by her utter disregard for what anyone else in the restaurant thinks. She is, after all, defending someone so small they would never have been able to stand up for themself. I also can't afford to be seen in a public scene like this and wish it would all just stop.
"Look, lady, he is four years old. He has not listened all day and I am up to my neck in his tantrums and bullshit. Call them! I don't care. Maybe they will take him away and I can live in peace." What a bitch.
The little boy's tears are silent now. I am sure those words have stung more than the spanking he almost received a few moments before. Those words will stay for years.
Gianna has the phone to her ear. The woman's eyes widen in horror as she starts to usher her children out of the restaurant.
Gianna calmly says, "You can leave, Mrs. Robertson, but I am fully aware that you are staying at number seventeen Bradford Lane."
Even more horrified the woman's heels clacker a wild shuffle as she begins to try and run out of the place. Dying of embarrassment.
Gianna returns to the table, putting her phone away. The rest of the restaurant who had their eyes glued to the scene returned to their dinner, muttering their own opinions about what had just happened.
I don't say a word. I barely know what to say.
Who is this woman sitting opposite me? I am dumbstruck and in awe.
She sips her wine and takes a deep breath; her cheeks are flushed a light pink. "Can you believe her!? That poor baby, I will inform the estate manager tomorrow morning and I will have someone go over there with an official complaint. I have seen her yelling and screeching at him before."
I can see she is not joking.
