One Night Stand with My Husband's Brother

CHAPTER 4

Giovanni touches my chin, lifting it. I was shocked by that revelation, and then I realized all the signs, which made me even angrier. Why did he do all that if he didn't want to be with me?

"I know I acted wrong by leading you on yesterday. But it's just... it's hard to explain... how can I say..." Giovanni said.

Well, he started on the wrong foot, and I raised my hand toward him and said, hurt:

"Get out."

I didn't want to hear another word from Giovanni's mouth. He looked at me sadly, but I wasn't willing to give in to him. At that moment, I just wanted to distance myself from him and pretend that last night didn't exist. I got out of bed and walked towards the door of my room. I felt his presence walking behind me; his steps were heavy and firm. I reached the living room door and opened it, pointing to the exit.

"You better leave," I said without looking at him.

"I'm sorry," Giovanni apologized, and he seemed sincere, but I didn't want to know.

"Please, go," I asked again.

He left calmly, but not before stopping in front of me and touching my face. His honey-colored eyes were sad.

"I just wanted to say that I wish our night had been different. I loved talking to you..."

Before he could continue, I pushed the door towards him, making him take a step back. Then I slammed the door shut and locked it. I went back to my room and lay down. For some reason, I started crying, maybe because I knew what he said was genuine. But I couldn't understand why he deceived me like that. Why did he deceive himself like that?

***

"Look who decided to show up," Susan said as soon as I entered the newspaper office where we worked. She looked at me mischievously and asked, "How was the weekend?"

"It was good," I lied while sitting at my desk.

In reality, I spent the weekend locked up in my apartment reflecting on everything that had happened. I concluded that I had overreacted in my attitude toward him, but it didn't matter anymore since I wouldn't see him anytime soon.

"I bet it was," Susan said as she opened the gossip website. She turned her monitor towards me and continued, "Especially after the night with Giovanni Cordopatri."

I looked at the monitor, and there was the entrance of my building, with him leaving in his black Land Rover. I grabbed the monitor to read the gossip headline, and there it was confirmed: Giovanni Cordopatri spends the night with two mysterious women. The Cordopatri heir was seen entering the building in Little Italy accompanied by two women and only leaving the next day. The identities of the residents of the building have not been located yet.

"Isn't it amazing?" Susan asked excitedly.

"Was it you?" I asked, suspiciously looking at my friend.

"No, of course not. I care about my job; imagine if Ricardo finds out we missed such a scoop? He'd kill us... But who would've thought he was Giovanni Cordopatri, heir to one of the largest media conglomerates in the country? And that you spent the night with him?"

"Shhh!" I gestured to Susan to lower her voice. I was afraid people would find out. "Oh my God, I can't believe I just missed the biggest scoop of my life... My gateway to becoming an investigative reporter at the newspaper..."

"I know," Susan whispered. "But tell me, how is he?"

"How is he what?" I asked back. I didn't know what to say about that night.

"You know... in bed," my friend asked, curious.

"Well... it was good... pleasurable... you know... the usual... what I expected," I lied.

"Well, I think there's still a way to salvage this scoop... You just need to put it in the right place. In your gossip column, that is."

"I don't know..."

"Oh, Mia, didn't you say it was pleasurable?" Susan questioned, looking at me. She turned and then turned on my computer and said, "This is your chance; put down everything the other sites couldn't say."

I turned to my computer; I needed to do something before I got even more nervous. I could write everything, as my friend suggested, and get back at him for what he did to me. After all, it would be a huge scoop for our newspaper to reveal that Giovanni Cordopatri, the coveted bachelor from such an important family, was gay. I could secure my place in the sun there with that. But for some reason, I couldn't write a single line about Giovanni's homosexuality. Maybe because that topic didn't belong to me; it wasn't my place to force him out of the closet, let alone reveal something so... personal. I chose to deflect:

"I don't know, I'm thinking about pursuing a different gossip angle today."

"You didn't sleep with him!" Susan exclaimed so loudly that everyone turned their attention to me.

"Shut up!" I shot back at her, annoyed. "We did sleep together, but I don't want to talk about it now. Let alone put my private life in the column."

"Okay... And when will you tell me?"

"Maybe on the day of Saint Never," I replied irritably.

***

I spent the whole day without talking to Susan. The image from the gossip website tormented me all day. What if someone found out about me? What would I do if I were fired for missing this scoop? Or worse, for being the scoop myself? Damn, the moment I accepted him to come to my apartment.

When it finally came time to leave, I practically ran out of the office. I wanted to get home as soon as possible and bury myself in bed. I didn't care about the crowded subway or the catcalls I received on the way to my apartment. However, as soon as I entered the building, I almost tripped over the thousands of bouquets of red roses on the floor of the lobby.

"What's this?" I asked the doorman, startled.

"They all arrived for you, ma'am," the doorman replied. He scratched his head as he continued, "What would you like me to do with all of them?"

"Looks like the night was more than good," Susan commented from behind me. "Sorry for earlier. It's just that, just thinking that he was with us all night... wow."

"It's okay," I replied.

I picked up one of the bouquets and opened its card: it said a huge SORRY on it. I noticed that all of them had the same, which left me no choice but to take them to my apartment. After all, if they were all thrown in the trash, it wouldn't be long before they discovered who the person was that Giovanni spent the night with, supposedly.

"Let's take them upstairs," I decided.

***

I opened exactly 249 cards, each with an apology. Susan looked at me curiously; I knew she wanted to ask what he had done to apologize, but she wouldn't. The serious expression on my face didn't give her any opening.

"This is the last one," my friend said, handing me a pink envelope.

I opened it carefully, but it wasn't just the word "SORRY." There was also an address and a phone number for me to call him and give him the chance he wanted to explain himself.

"So...?" Susan asked, curious about the card.

"He wants to meet me... talk to me," I replied, still reading the note.

"What did he do?" Susan finally asked.

"Ahmmm... nothing, he didn't do anything," I said, leaving it at that.

"If he didn't do anything, why don't you give him a chance to explain the 'nothing' he didn't do?"

"It's too complicated," I replied, tossing the card onto the coffee table. I rested my head on the sofa and closed my eyes. It was all too much for me.

"Look, I understand that you don't want to tell me. But let's face it, the guy is really sorry. If a guy gave me a rose like this, I would have forgiven him already," Susan explained, sitting next to me.

"You used to sleep with Alex every time he bought you a beer," I recalled one of my friend's weirdest ex-boyfriends.

"Right, right. But Giovanni seems like a different guy," Susan argued, handing me the phone. "Call him and set up this meeting already."

I stared at my friend for a moment. Was she right? Should I really call Giovanni? And what would I say to him?

"No matter what you're going to say, just say it," my friend said as if she were reading my mind.

I took the phone from her hands and called Giovanni, who answered after three rings.

"Hello... Giovanni?"

"Hello, Mia. Finally."