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"Come in. I have a really good single-malt whiskey. I don't know what is going on, but it looks like you need a double on the rocks." How does she just know? I find my way to her couch and sink into it. Feeling agitated, uncomfortable, angry. But also, glad to be here. She has a way about her that takes away some of my tension without even saying anything.
I did not even know if we were still just friends or what we were to each other, but I was grateful to be around her right now.
She puts a glass in front of me on the coffee table. Whiskey on the rocks. She has poured the same for herself. A woman after my own heart.
She sits on the couch next to me, pulling her legs underneath her she looks casual, comfortable, and absolutely stunning. Her round breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her white crop top.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks.
She doesn't push for information; her question is open and calm. I feel that whether I let her know what is happening or not I am still welcome. I am relieved. Then unexpectedly I find myself opening up to her anyway. I barely open up to anyone.
"My ex. She's playing dirty. Using Taylor as a tool in the court case. Just for money." I hate that I once would have fallen for her manipulation.
Gianna stays quiet, showing me that she is listening but letting me talk.
"I just don't understand how her mind works. Does she honestly have no heart at all? She has not even asked to see her son in over a year. The last time I did let her see her son she arrived drunk. How can a mother go that long without fighting to see her own child?" I feel my voice rising in anger and take a sip of whiskey, letting the fiery liquid burn down my throat.
I feel out of control.
I need to pull myself together.
Gianna casually stretched one of her legs out, touching my thigh, pretending nothing of it, but it felt reassuring. "I'm so sorry, Hudson. Do your lawyers think she stands a chance to get what she is after?"
"I really doubt it. Her history is rocky, to say the least. It's just, that you can never say never, and I have to take this seriously. I cannot take any chances. Not when my son is at risk." I know how easily the court of public opinion can be swayed.
"You know with the recent shit about her in the news and her still dating your brother who is, sorry to be so blunt, a raging drug addict. I doubt there is anything you have to worry about. I mean I get it; you still have to fight back and there is always that worry that you get some asshole judge who hears her bullshit and falls for it. The law isn't always fair. But, Hudson, you are the most amazing father I have ever met. Someone would have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to not see that." I feel like an average dad most days, but I love my son and would die to keep him from being hurt.
I nod as her words sink into me. Her voice is soothing, and I feel the negativity ease away a little.
She leans over to grab her phone and her crop top pulls tight against her skin. Why isn't she wearing a bra? Of course, she isn't, she is relaxing at home. Fuck, she is so distracting, but right now I need to be distracted.
"I'll order us some food. Just relax, kick your feet up, we can bring the bottle of whiskey here, so we don't even have to leave the couch, OK? This is what friends are for Hudson."
Friends.
I nod. Yes, I guess that is exactly what I need now. A real friend. I am just surprised to realize that my only real friend is Gianna. My feisty neighbor. The thought strikes me as odd. I don't even see her as just being my brother's ex anymore. She is so much more to me than that. In all honesty, I am growing to be quite fond of her whether I like that idea or not.
"You are right. I just need to let loose a little. Breathe. I definitely need to calm down before I go home either way. The nanny is with Taylor because I didn't want him to see me like this."
Gianna puts her phone down. "I hope you like pizza. I ordered two different kinds."
I am relieved she has just gone ahead and made the order without asking. I appreciate the fact that she seems to understand that I have a limited capacity to focus on mediocre things right now. It is so nice to have someone to just --- do things for me. I mean not in a business sense. I pay plenty of people to work for me, but here she is, just doing things as a friend.
By the second whiskey, I am starting to feel a lot better. Gianna has made herself right at home around me, her feet on my lap and her cheeks flushed pink from the laughter. We are being so petty, making fun of my ex and my brother, but the jokes are helping me make light of this ridiculous situation and I haven't actually laughed this much since, actually, have I ever laughed this much.
She is still giggling at her last snarky comment about my ex while she takes a sip of her whiskey. The ice chimed against the glass.
I find myself staring at her. Her soft lips, loose strands of her messy bun falling over her cheeks. She glanced up at me and her green eyes were bright with mischief.
I am about to lean forward and kiss her when the doorbell rings.
"Pizza!" She shouts and jumps up. I laugh to myself. Apparently, whiskey hits her harder than wine because she is as energetic and entertaining as a naughty child.
She comes back into the room with two boxes of pizza, putting them down on the coffee table she does not even bring plates. She just opens the boxes and grabs a slice, biting into it as she slides back down onto the couch. I don't like the fact that her legs are no longer near me, so I lean over to grab her around her lower waist, pulling her closer to me. Then without saying a word I select a slice of pizza for myself and lean back to enjoy it, my free hand on her thigh.
She does not say a word, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, and for some reason that is exactly how it feels, like the most natural thing in the world.
The pizza boxes lay open, unfinished.
