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Giana brushed past me, marching toward the door, irritation rising off her like smoke. “No worries.”
Okay. Experience taught me that things were far from good when the feisty dark-haired beauty uttered, No worries.
I wanted to spin her around and ask her what I did wrong.
But she shot out of there like an arrow from a bow.
I once dreamed about a reunion with Giana, and while it lacked a cute-puppies-and-colorful-rainbows vibe, it sure as fuck didn’t have this maddening enemies-for-life vibe. If we were to spend today, and possibly tomorrow, touring potential homes together, shit had to be sorted out.
* * *
Once we were inside the car, Giana’s nose was in her phone, thumbs pounding the keyboard.
I pushed my car’s ignition button and then turned to face her. “Maybe we should talk, clear this negative air between us?”
She blew out a breath, eyes still fixed on that damn phone. “Okay. Let’s regroup where we met this morning.”
Back at the house on Waterloo, we settled down on bar stools positioned around the kitchen’s center island.
Giana had made coffee, and we sipped our java in silence—I wracked my brain on how to break the ice, and she seemingly did the same.
Fuck, we’d never been at a loss for words. I guess time, distance, and reality had altered that.
“How have you been?” The question may have sounded like the epitome of small talk, but one of us had to start somewhere.
Giana smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve been good—busy, but good.” She took another sip of coffee. “What about you?”
“Same. Busy, but good.”
“How’s the family?” Laughter rang through the open space, tackling the deafening silence as we simultaneously posed the question. That laugh of hers, sultry and infectious, reminded me of how much I’d missed it.
After I shared that my parents were as lively as ever, Giana said, “Sofie’s getting married next weekend.”
“Married?” Her sister swore she’d never get hitched. “Who changed her mind about marriage?”
Giana chugged her coffee as though it were a shot of whiskey before setting the cup down with a thud. “My ex-fiancé.”
My jaw drifted open as the shock hit me in waves.
Not only did I have to digest that her sister, who used to vomit at the thought of marriage, decided to marry her ex, but hearing that Giana had been engaged made my stomach harden.
“Sorry, it’s why I may have seemed preoccupied or like I’m in a shitty mood.” She held her cell phone up, a frown locked between her brows. “Sofie keeps texting, asking me to confirm the rehearsal-dinner menu…among other things. It’s one of my duties as her maid of freaking honor.”
“You’re joking, right?”
Mouth pressed in a hard line, Giana shook her head. “If only this whole wedding fiasco were nothing but a colossal joke.” She reached over and touched my arm, naturally, as though time or distance hadn’t passed between us. “Let’s not make this day, this weekend, about my stupid family drama. We’re here to find you a house.”
I studied her expressionless face and wondered how much hurt or anger she concealed. “Promise you’ll fill me in later tonight over dinner? You know I’m a sucker for family drama.”
A whisper of a smile danced across her lips. “I’d like that a lot.”
CHAPTER 4
Giana
* * *
Time together quickly navigated from awkward to productive after our brief coffee chat.
