Author's Note: My first posted fanfic...wow. I've been reading Jane Austen fic at other sites for about 10 years! I've only co-written a tiny part of one joke-of-a-fic for a challenge that was ever posted, and I've been writing my very own fic for that site for 7 years now, still incomplete, I am just reaaaally slow, but I knew myself well enough that I never started posting it. Anyway, that's where I'm coming from.

I have been loving the character of Gio ever since he showed up, and TKAA sent me into full-blown obsession. I started writing this like the next day--and as I was lurking the Ugly Betty site, I found you all. I wish there was more Getty fic to go around, so here's my offering. My goal was to get them to kiss again before Thursday's finale, which if it goes the way I'm hoping for, will inspire more great Getty mush! (Hint, hint) I've been writing this all during the week, rushing to post before Thursday because I know after that, I won't be able to concentrate!

Please let me know if you read it! Thanks to the other authors for posting.

After Henry, Before Rome...A Gio and Betty Fanfic

Part One

"…I want to be the guy."

()()()

I went inside and found Hilda—I thought she'd be asleep but she was on the sofa, gushing to Justin about Coach Diaz. Justin went to bed and Hilda told me about the coach—Tony—and I told her about my night and Gio.

"Oh, Betty, that is so sweet! You should be happy!"

"Happy!? Happy? What do I have to be happy about? My boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—left me, and I just got turned down by Gio!"

"Yes, you should be happy. Listen, guys can tell when all you want is a rebound thing, and ooh let me tell you, they will take full advantage! I told you he was nice."

"Hildaaaaa," I whined.

"It felt good, didn't it?" my sister gave me a knowing look.

"Yeah, it did."

"And you're starting to think, 'maybe life does go on, maybe I can find someone else'…eh?"

"I know what you're trying to say and you're wrong—I am not trying to use Gio to boost my self-esteem, okay? I was feeling a little lonely and I did have a lot of fun with him tonight…but I have been friends with him for a while now and if I like him…" I was suddenly remembering Gio's words to me in the deli, "…then there's nothing wrong with that!"

()()()

I didn't talk to Gio for a week. I concentrated on work, I spent more time with my family now that I wasn't trying to spend every spare moment with Henry, and I stopped crying every night. I traded my Kleenex box for a pen and I wrote every night that week. And I did everything I could to avoid seeing Gio.

I did hear about him though. Hilda was at the school on some excuse to see Coach Diaz and saw Gio picking up his sister. They didn't talk, but he waved 'hello' and then left. And, I got a really annoying email from Mark with a picture of Gio at the deli talking to some woman. She was wearing a short skirt with these really tacky shoes and I totally don't even care that he was talking to her. I bet she came in there with some sorry excuse, like to use the phone or something. He looked really bored. Not that I spent that much time analyzing the picture, I'm just saying he looked bored. Maybe Mark paid her…

Ok, whatever, anyway, I saw Gio today. I don't think he saw me. If he did, then he's avoiding me too. I was coming out of Daniel's office and I saw Gio leaving. My first impulse was to hide. But I didn't have to, Gio didn't turn around, so I just stood there and watched him go. I still don't know what he was doing there. I asked Amanda if any sandwiches had been delivered – ugh, I walked into that one! She let me have it, as usual.

So, it's been bugging me all day, why did he come to Mode and then not talk to me? What was he going to say? I think I've made everything worse by avoiding him. Now that will be a thing, like 'why were you avoiding me' and it'll be awkward, like things aren't already going to be awkward no matter what after he basically told me how he felt.

(sigh)

I could just avoid him forever…

My heart sunk at the thought. I don't know what I want from him right now. I'm pretty sure I know what he wants though. I'm not ready! I just had my heart broken! It's still broken! Why couldn't he just be a friend and keep it simple? Why did he have to go and declare himself? Why did he have to act so sweet that night? Why did I open my big mouth and ask him out? What was I thinking! I'm just going to have to watch how I act around him so I don't say or do anything that could lead him on and make him think I'm ready for a serious boyfriend. I'm not over Henry. It's only been three weeks. Henry…

Thank God for work. I got through the rest of the day just fine—better than fine. I feel great! Claire Meade asked to see me and she wants me to write another article for Hot Flash! I started to pick up the phone to call Gio, but I was too chicken to dial the number. I know he'd be happy for me though. Why am I making this weird? If I wasn't over-analyzing this whole situation and I just went with my impulse, then I'd just go see him. As soon as I leave work, I'll just stop by his deli and say hello, no big deal!

I was really calm about seeing Gio again until I got right outside the shop's door. I knew those bells on the door were going to jingle when I went in and he'd be right there at the counter and he'd look up and see me -- why did I think I could just come down here and tell him about my day like usual?

Suddenly, I had no choice. I heard an "Excuse me…" as a couple walked past me through the door. The doorbells jingled, Gio looked up, and I saw him start when he saw me.

"Uh…hey…welcome to Gio's Sandwiches, what can I get ya?" Gio's attention was on his customers and so I went in and took a seat. I was really relieved to have a few minutes to get my nerves under control, and really, why should I be nervous, he's the one that should be nervous. Just act normal and see how he acts…

The couple got their food to go. Ugh. I was kind of hoping they'd stay and eat. I was being such a chicken.

Gio walked over to me, drying his hands on a towel. "Hey…"

"Hey!" I said, perking up, big fake smile plastered on my face. I waited for him to say something but of course he didn't, he just stood there looking at me. He didn't even have the manners to look shy or embarrassed! And he was standing just a bit too close, staring right into my eyes and not talking, so I guess he was just going to make me do all the work. Fine…

"Wow, I can't believe it's Friday already! This week has sure flown by! Work has been crazy—Daniel's charity softball event is next weekend, and I've been ordering uniforms—orange and silver, blech, I know—and there's catering, and promos, and sponsorships. It's going to be a lot of fun. Can't you just see Wilhemina in an orange softball uniform? Ha-ha-ha….ahem … so…how was your week?"

Oh my gosh, I am such a freak.

"Um…it was okay I guess."

I saw something in Gio's eyes like confusion.

"What do you have planned for the weekend?" Oh crap, I hope that didn't come across like a hint that I want to do something together…I saw the corner of his mouth twitch. I knew that smirk. Yep, there it was…the arrogant little…

"Why, Betty? What did you have in mind?"

"Nothing! I was just making conversation!"

"You came all the way over here just to talk to me?—"

"No!"

"—I'm flattered, really, and if I didn't have this party tray to make in the next half hour…what? No?" He started back to the other side of the counter. "Then why did you come here, Betty?"

"Uh…" I looked around me as if the answer was written on the menu board. "Can I use your phone?"

He laughed out loud. "You want to use my phone? Ok, sure. What's wrong with your cell phone?"

"Nothing." Crap. Crap. Crap.

"Come on, Betty. You can do better than this. Don't make me start quacking at you again…"

I looked up at him and I could see he wanted to laugh at me. And then I got a little mad. Why was I feeling so defensive and why wasn't he trying to make this a little easier. He had a mouth, he knew how to use it—I mean, for talking, to talk with. Oh no, he saw me looking at his mouth…

"So, how did your article come out, the one you wrote for Claire Meade?" He started slicing cheese.

I felt relief and this huge smile broke over my face as I told him my news.

He stopped what he was doing to look at me. He had this huge grin, "That's great! Wow, good for you, Betty. Your plan is in motion. Won't be long and you'll be asking me for ideas for what to call your magazine."

"Uh, no—you'd probably call it, 'Betty's Magazine'." I rolled my eyes. "I think I can handle coming up with a name."

"Well, you're the writer."

"Yes I am."

"So, Betty the Writer, what's this next article going to be about."

Things were finally feeling like normal again. The air between us felt relaxed. I came to lean on the counter and watch him work, and I could have easily told him about my day or Hilda and the Coach, or anything else, but no, I can't explain why exactly I opened the topic with him, but I did…

"Well, I was thinking of writing the article on rebound relationships." I glanced up at him to see his reaction. He winced and I could see a glint in his eyes.

His voice was low, "I was glad I could help you on previous assignments, but I think I'm going to sit this one out." He gave me a mocking smile and took the tray back to the cooler. He was back immediately. "I've got it. Drop the rebound thing and write your article about friendship between men and women—how to handle things when the man wants more." He raised his eyebrows defiantly at me.

"Are you volunteering…"

He dropped his eyes and laughed to himself. "I thought I already had."

"Um, okay…so…well in your opinion, how could the woman go about keeping the friendship if she wasn't ready for more? How would they stay friends?" I gulped and pushed up my glasses.

It took him a minute to answer. His head dropped a little while he thought over what I said. I felt bad about it, using the 'friend' word on him. He had made it clear he wanted to be my boyfriend, so what I had just asked couldn't have been welcome to his ears. I suddenly felt like a jerk.

"I think first off, she'd have to figure out if she thought she could ever feel more for this man in the future or if she already knew there was no way. If she knew there was no hope for him, it'd be better not to keep stringing him along."

I knew from the way he was looking at me, with that intensity in his eyes, that he knew that I did feel something. He knew that I liked him—ugh! But I didn't even want to call it that! Then what? The word 'attraction' popped into my head, and I squashed it as fast as I could. But…there was something, even if I didn't want to put a word on it.

I started to straighten the take-home menus on the countertop. "And what if she did?"

"Did what?" He popped a salami wedge into his mouth and started to clean the slicer.

"Feel something. I mean, what if she might…in the future…"

"I dunno, Betty…" he sighed and leaned against the back counter, folding his arms against his chest. He just stared at me for the longest time, I swear, it was so hard not to fidget. Finally, he stood all the way up and walked around the counter. He walked right up to me and I just stood there looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He leaned into me, and reached past me to grab a set of keys next to the register. Then he winked at me and walked off to the door to lock it and turn off the "Open" sign.

He walked back to the counter and stood in front of me, kind of propping himself against the counter with his elbow. "I think it would be a good idea if the friends got to know each other better. Hang out as friends. Talk about stuff. Figure out a little bit more about what they have in common. I don't think it takes that long for people to figure out what they want to do, whether or not they want to be with someone or not. I think if the guy really likes a girl, then he'd be willing to wait. I know I am."

And there was that look again. The one that made my chest tighten, the one that made it hard to breathe.

"Okay………okay." I shuffled my feet a bit nervously. "Alright, good. That sounds good. We'll hang out as friends."

"Okay," he agreed softly.

I started to feel like I needed to get out of there. "Well, I guess I should be going. There's a football game tonight and I promised Justin I'd go…"

"Justin is playing football?" Gio looked a little worried.

"No, no, no…Hilda worked something out with Justin's P.E. coach—Justin's been choreographing the cheerleading routines for extra-credit."

"Ah." Gio walked me to the door and started unlocking the deadbolt. The silence, I have to say, was a little uncomfortable.

"Thanks for stopping by, Betty. It was good to see you…" Gio held the door open for me. I considered for a moment to ask him why he was in the office today, but I held back the question. It really didn't matter now.

I took a deep breath as I turned to go – there was that scent, something like soap and citrus – I stopped and turned towards him, "Thank you…"

"For what?" he said, searching my eyes with his.

"For being my friend. I missed our talks this week."

He smiled down at me and it looked like he was going to say something but he stopped and said, "Me too…'night, Betty…"

"Goodnight. And, oh yeah, your order is going to be late…" I gave him a smug look before he shoved me the rest of the way out the door and locked it. I watched him run back to the counter and cover that last tray and then he disappeared into the back of the deli. I headed for my train and yeah, I couldn't help smiling to myself a few times along the way.

Part Two

I spent the weekend working on my article for Hot Flash. I didn't write about rebound relationships or men/women friendships. Write what you know—that's always been good advice. So, I wrote about breaking up. I'm still really, really sad—whenever I'm not busy, then I'm thinking about Henry. I really thought he was the one. Everything would have been so perfect…if only.

Anyway, I wouldn't have time to wallow this week, not with the softball game coming up. And with everything I have to do, Daniel told me that I'm going to have to play in the game—I don't play softball or baseball or football! I told Gio all about it when I saw him before lunch. We were unpacking sandwiches in the conference room.

"Well, I don't think you have to worry about it--how much competition can a bunch of models be anyway? They probably can't even lift a bat. You'll be fine…look, if you're that worried about it, I could help you, you know, give you a few pointers, pitch the ball for you, get some practice in before the game."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks, Gio," I smiled at him quickly, but I suddenly felt awkward.

"You want to go today, don't you? It's cool. I'll run home and get my stuff, you just meet me at the deli when you're done today."

"Oh, okay…" I started to protest, just to be polite of course, but then Gio tapped his watch and shrugged innocently as he left me in mid-sentence.

()()()

Gio took me to a park near my neighborhood and we put on our gloves and started tossing the ball back and forth. At first, things were so comfortable that we were laughing and throwing sarcastic remarks at each other; it was great. But something I said made me think of Henry; I remembered him telling me he love me right before he left that last time.

"What's wrong?" Gio plainly asked.

"I'm feeling guilty," I said with a sigh.

"Why?"

"Because Gio, I'm here with you…and I'm still thinking about Henry…"

"Oh well, that's probably normal. But I don't want you feeling guilty for me—just try and have fun…"

"No, I feel guilty because of Henry—I feel like I'm betraying him by hanging out with another guy."

"Oh." Gio tossed the ball back twice more before he stopped suddenly. "I don't get it, Betty--he's gone. He went to Arizona with Charlie and his baby—you shouldn't feel guilty for trying to have a life of your own. He's having one--in Arizona, ok? He made his choice. Am I right, or am I right?"

"What choice did he have, Gio, it's not like he had much of one—"

"Oh, he had a choice!"

"That's easy for you to say, you're not the one with a baby—Henry did the only honorable thing he could do!"

"No, that's just what you tell yourself."

"It is not."

"It is too."

"It is not, it's the truth; and what would you have done differently, then, Mr. I-Know-Everything-Expert-of-What's-Right-And-Wrong?"

"I would have asked you to marry me."

"What?"

"Don't say you hadn't thought of it. He could have, and he didn't. Isn't any part of you mad about that?"

Angry tears stung my eyes. I swallowed hard and willed myself not to cry. I decided not to answer him right away and I just held my breath until I felt like I could exhale without shuddering. When the threat of emotion had passed, I looked up at him and saw him watching me,

"Betty, I'm sorry…"

I sat down right where I stood. He walked over to me and stood there a moment before finally sitting down. I just stared at the grass trying to arrange my feelings into coherent words.

"No, Gio, I'm the one who should be sorry, and I am. You're right and…you haven't done anything to deserve this" I motioned all around me. I felt him touch my hand, it startled me, but I didn't pull away because I thought it would hurt his feelings. I looked up and there was something so reassuring in his smile,

"Neither did you. You didn't deserve any of this either." He gave my hand a squeeze and then moved to stand up. He held a hand out to me, "And I should know, being an expert and everything."

I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily. The whole talk had been a release for me, and somehow, I actually felt better—more like me and less like a mask. I took his hand and he helped me up.

"You want to practice some more?"

"Um….nah, that's okay. The sun is going down and uh…"

"What, are you going to turn into a pumpkin?"

I grimaced and said, "No, that's this weekend—you'll see, when I'm in that orange uniform—Go Team Mode! Blech!"

"This I've got to see, Suarez. I'll bring my camera. I'll get a nice 8x10 printed out. You can autograph it and I'll hang it up in the deli."

"Great. That's just great." I glared at him but I had to smile. We packed up the gear and started walking across the park to his van. He stopped at the swings. I sent him a questioning look. He cocked his head to the side and said, "Come on."

I watched him as he walked over and picked out a swing, but I wasn't far behind. Truth was, I kind of wanted to anyway. I was swinging as fast and as high as I could and then I just let myself glide. I felt the air on my face and breathed in the smell of the cut grass. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the park. I heard Gio sigh and it brought me back to Earth. He was just barely swaying in his seat and just sort of staring across the park. He was watching the sunset. I slowed to stop and I studied his profile. He had a nice face…I noticed he kept his sideburns longer than Henry's. It was just an observation. Sideburns wouldn't really suit Henry. But they looked good on Gio…

"You're staring at me, Suarez," Gio smirked at me with half-opened eyes.

"You have a very round head." I said simply.

He snorted. "I guess that's better than square…"

"Why did you cut your hair so short anyway?"

"Don't you like it? I know…you can't run your fingers through it, but don't worry, it'll grow back."

"Actually…I like it better this way…"

Gio got off the swing. "Then maybe I'll leave it short. Flirt."

Ugh! I glared at him as I walked by. I didn't have to look back; I knew he was right behind me, probably laughing to himself. He was such a boy sometimes! "I wasn't flirting," I grumbled under my breath. He heard me.

"Wow. It must be like second-nature for you then, you don't even realize you're doing it…"

"All I said was you have a round head. It's like a bowling ball you know."

"Do you bowl?"

"What? Yeah, I mean, I used to…"

"But you don't anymore? Why not?"

We were at the van and Gio unlocked the doors and put the gear in the back. We got in and buckled up. "I was on a team with my boyfriend –"

"Henry…" Gio started the engine but he just sat there letting it idle.

"No…Walter." I looked over at him. I could see he was thinking and then he kind of shook his head, with a little smile.

"Walter. Was he a Mode guy too?" Gio started to drive and I felt suddenly very pensive.

"No, he was from the neighborhood…before I started working at Mode…" I looked out the window, remembering. There was no pang left in my heart over Walter. I wondered if it would ever be like that when I thought of Henry.

"So, do you ever run into him?" Gio had both hands on the steering wheel. I sensed he was forcing himself to sound conversational. I watched him, now I was studying the other side of his profile, and yeah, his head was just as round from the right side.

"No, he moved. He got a promotion." My voice sounded healthy I thought, for being on the subject of exes. "All his family still live in the neighborhood, so I know he comes home for holidays and things. But we haven't stayed in touch."

"Tough break, Suarez…"

"Wait a second, he didn't leave me, I broke up with him!"

"Oh yeah?" Gio gave me a sidelong glance. "Why'd you do that?"

"I wasn't in-love with him anymore. I don't even think now that I really ever loved him, not the way people should love the person they're going to marry—"

"You were going to marry him?" Gio seemed surprised. "Just seems kind of young…"

"Yeah, I guess it was. I guess you could say I was just going along with what I thought I was supposed to do. Don't. I know what you're going to say. I'm not that person anymore—"

Gio opened his mouth to argue, but I interrupted him, "I'm getting better anyway. And I guess I have you to thank for that!" I could see that I'd surprised him. He looked pleased and I could see a grin tugging at his cheek, but he was fighting it.

"I only picked the lock, you're the one that wrecked that trophy case…"

I laughed at the memory. "Yeah, yeah. But I wasn't talking about that. What you said about just being…that and…what you said tonight." I tucked my chin and stared at my hands in my lap.

Gio shifted in his seat.

"I wanted Henry to propose and I have been justifying it in my head why he didn't. I have been defending him and feeling sorry for him and feeling guilty about wishing he'd picked me, which isn't right, I know it's not, but I keep thinking there was another way and for whatever reason, he didn't want to try!" I let the window down to get a little fresh air. Gio was being way too quiet and I remembered who I was talking to. It wasn't fair to go on too much about Henry to Gio, or that I kept taking out my frustration on him. "I guess you were right. I am a little mad." I glanced at him and he looked thoughtful at first, but then he seemed to relax.

We pulled up to my house. I started to get out and I noticed Gio didn't look like he was coming. "Are you hungry? You want to come in for dinner?"

He looked like he was thinking about it, but he started to shake his head. "Thanks, but I gotta get home. Maybe next time…you still need some more practice, your batting really stinks, Suarez." He grinned at me, and I laughed, and it seemed friendly, but then I caught that look in his eye--just like the night of the dance when he told me he wanted to be the guy. I looked away first.

"Okay, well I'll see you later then…thanks again…"

"Goodnight, Betty."

I walked to the door and unlocked it. I turned to wave before I went in; he was watching to make sure I got in okay. I could smell dinner and hear the TV. But I strained my ears for Gio's van until I couldn't hear it anymore. I sighed at the thought of another long night ahead—just keep busy, I told myself, and headed for the kitchen.

Part Three

"Are you sure this thing is safe?" I grimaced as a baseball hit the back of the batting cage next to us.

"Sure. Watch me." Gio popped a quarter in the machine and took a batter's stance. He made it look easy. Annoying. "You're up!"

I got into position. I felt stupid especially with Gio watching me, but I just held my head up and got ready to swing. Strike. Then another. This was hopeless.

The machine was waiting for another quarter but Gio didn't start another round. "Hold on, hold on, wait a second. You need to get your elbow up. And don't be afraid of the ball. Here…" Gio came up behind me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at him.

"May I?" Gio opened his arms and I just shrugged at him and faced the other way, waiting. His arms came around me to grab the bat. I felt his leather watchband against my wrist and his fingers around mine. "I'll do a few slow swings so you can feel it—hey, could you please concentrate here? I know it's hard to keep your eyes off me, Suarez, but you need to keep 'em on the ball…"

"Can you just not breathe in my ear? It tickles…" I felt my face burning. "You are so conceited…"

"Okay, do you feel that? Got the angle? You just need to get the bat from here…to here. Like that." Gio had strong arms. And he was warm. This time being in his arms was starting to feel almost familiar. What if…I let myself enjoy it? I felt really thirsty all of a sudden. "Close your eyes…" he told me.

"Okay…?" I closed my eyes. Oh my gosh this felt good…

"Now visualize it—see yourself swing, feel the contact…"

"Okay, okay, I think I got it!" I shrugged him off of me and hoped he hadn't noticed how hard I was breathing. He walked over to his cooler and pulled out a couple of beers. "That's not for me is it? I'll just have water." He smirked and put back the other bottle. I practiced a few swings on my own.

"I thought you liked root beer." He nudged me with an icy water bottle.

"Hey!" I took the water from him. "Thanks. I do. Water is fine though…" I had another sip and then set the bottle down and popped a quarter in the machine. I had a few more strikes and then—Contact!

"Yes!!" I jumped up and down. Then another hit. "I think I'm getting this!"

"Nice one, Suarez…" Gio's smile was all over his face. It made me pause—he reminded me of a happy little boy just then, and not for the first time, I thought he was cute. He grabbed a few quarters from the stack and went around to the batting cage next to me.

I practiced about a quarter of an hour more and then I felt my arms starting to hurt. I grabbed my water and sat down on a bench to watch Gio bat. He told me about his day, he told me funny stories from the deli, and he never missed hitting a pitch. The whole time, he was talking, cracking jokes, and making me laugh.

I didn't notice the time, but he did. "Is that invitation still open for dinner?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah!" I got to my feet and checked my watch. The time had flown by. "We'd better hurry though!"

We packed up and walked back to the van. The sun was nearly set as we made our way across the neighborhood to my house.

"Hey, I finished my article…"

"Oh yeah? Did it get the Meade stamp of approval?"

"Well, I haven't submitted it yet—I feel really protective of this one. Maybe after dinner you could take a look at it and tell me what you think…if you want…"

Gio raised an eyebrow at me. "Sure…but, I don't know how good my opinion will match up with Claire Meade's or any of her menopausal readers."

"You can just tell me if it's okay or totally awful."

"You wrote it, Betty, it's not going to be awful." There was that reassuring smile again.

"Who's flirting now?" I gave him a smug look. The momentary self-conscious grin he made gave me a little rush of pleasure. I admitted it to myself, but not to him!

I don't think we talked much the rest of the way home; he flipped on the radio and we just listened to the music for what was left of the short drive. When we walked in the house, the TV was on, Dad was in the kitchen, and Justin was setting the table. Everyone said 'Hey' and the look Justin sent Dad was barely noticeable. Just then, Hilda came in the back door.

"Okay, I'm done for the day and I'm off to play! Oh, Betty, good, you're home…Hey, Gio…Oy, I gotta change!" Like a whirlwind, she was gone and up the stairs.

"Set a place for Gio, please!" I said to Justin and then I nudged Gio in the arm, "Come on, you can wash up in here…"

I showed Gio the bathroom and then went up to my room, Dad's voice on my heels, "Hurry up! Everything's ready!"

Hilda met me at my door. "So, what's up with you and Gio, huh? This is two nights this week—I thought he told you he didn't think dating was a good idea?"

"Hilda!" I squeezed past her into my room and closed the door. "It wasn't a date, okay? Gio is just helping me practice for the Mode softball game—Daniel's making me play."

Hilda was at my closet rummaging around. She threw a shirt at me. "Wear that, it looks good with your hair. Poor Gio. To think he's liked you all this time and you're always so mean to him!"

"I am not mean to him! At least I don't try to be, but you don't know how he pushes my buttons! I never see him do it to anyone else—"

"Give him a chance, Betty—he's always helping you out when you need it. He's been a pretty good friend—I'm sorry, I know you're not over Henry yet, but I hate to see you pass up a good thing."

Hilda had been brushing out my hair the whole time she was defending Gio. "I know. But…you know I tried already, Hilda. He turned me down…"

"Yeah right, he really stuck to that, didn't he? Which is why he's downstairs right now…mmm, Betty, just be careful with him, ok?" Hilda patted my shoulder and left.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a minute thinking. It had been a good day, hadn't it? Work was busy and the batting cages had been fun…I suddenly had a mental image of Gio helping me swing the bat, his breath on my neck, his voice when he told me to close my eyes…

"Betty! Vaminos!" Dad was at the bottom of the stairs calling for me. I grabbed my notebook and hurried downstairs. A moment later we all heard Hilda at the door, "I'm going! Don't wait up!"

Dinner was great and Justin and Dad did a good job of keeping up the conversation. I noticed that Gio was a little quiet though. He smiled and laughed at the right times and he answered any direct questions, but otherwise he didn't say much. Justin finished first and made some excuse about homework and went up stairs. A minute later we heard music coming from his room.

"Ay, that song, again. He's played it so much I think I'm starting to like it." Dad laughed.

I leaned over to Gio to explain, "The cheerleaders are going to perform next week to that."

"Ah…"

"It's good to see you eating like you used to, mija," Dad got up to clear the table.

"Dad, sit down, come on, I'll take care of it."

"It's fine, go ahead and finish…"

I started to argue again, but Gio said, "I think we got it covered, Mr. Suarez…right Betty?"

"Yeah, go on Dad, you're going to miss your show…"

Dad glanced up at the kitchen clock, "Ayeee, I missed the first five minutes already!" He squeezed my shoulder as he hurried by to the living room.

Gio got up and started clearing the rest of the dishes away. "You got a really nice family, Betty, really nice."

"Thanks…"

"Kind of reminds me of my family…except there's about eight more of us."

I went to the sink and started filling it with hot, soapy water. Gio came up beside me and laid a stack of plates into the water, elbowing me as he did it. I elbowed him back.

"Owwwww, be gentle with me…" he laughed and started to take off his leather watchband.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I said bossily. His dark brown eyes stared down at me.

"I'm going to wash."

"No you're not. I'll wash, you dry. Towels are in that drawer."

"Yes ma'am."

We worked side by side with an occasional elbow nudge or bump of the hip.

"Stop…" I couldn't even say it without starting to giggle.

"You stop."

"You started it."

"It's that music…I see what your dad means, it kind of grows on you. My hips can't help themselves…"

I knew he was grinning at me; I didn't even have to look. I started to giggle softly; something about the way he danced.

"It's good to see you laughing, B," his voice was low and soft.

"Yeah, well…I can't help laughing when I look at you…and…I'm glad you're here." I looked up at him then, just to give him a very sincere smile as a sign of my gratitude I guess, but my smile faded when his eyes started searching mine. My eyes drifted down to his mouth – I was aching to kiss him. I kind of shook my head at my own weakness and turned away. We were done with the dishes anyway.

I got out my notebook and took out what I'd written. He folded the dishtowel and then came to sit at the table. I placed my article in front of him and then waited. I paced the kitchen, stared out the kitchen window, and tried not to hover. When he finished, he straightened the pages into a neat stack and got up from the table to walk over to me.

"Ouch," he said, looking at me with concern.

"That bad?" I felt panic rising up through me.

"No, it wasn't bad. What you wrote was good…but painful…" he made a wincing expression and folded his arms across his chest. He studied me for a moment.

"Okay….uh, well, anything else?" I went to the table and tucked my papers into my notebook. I had really wanted to show my writing to someone but now I was starting to feel too exposed.

"I didn't expect that…I thought you were going to write about something else…"

"Well…I think my own experience gave it an honest tone. I just wonder how the Hot Flash readers will relate; I wonder if a breakup at fifty feels the same as at twenty-four….Ugh, I hope I never find out!" The thought was revolting.

"Ah, I don't think you'll have to worry about that."

"Do you want to stay a while longer…watch some of Dad's novella with us? He totally gets into it, but I am cracking up most of the time."

Gio's eyes looked towards the living room. He smiled and started to shake his head.

"Come on, I know you'll be good at it!" I felt my mood soaring almost to giddiness. And I could see I'd piqued his interest.

"Good at it? Good at what?" My grin was contagious and he was grinning back at me as I hooked his arm with mine and led him out of the kitchen.

"See, Dad and Justin, they actually care what's going on. Hilda and me, we just like making fun of the awful plots, bad makeup and over-acting. You've got to have a side-kick when watching one of Dad's novellas or it just doesn't work!"

We took up seats on the sofa; Dad was in his favorite chair, closest to the TV. He had a pained look on his face. At that, we were already snickering. I don't know if Gio meant to sit close to me or if it was unintentional, but I have to say, I didn't avoid it. It felt good. I liked being close to someone. And it made each other's sarcastic mumblings about Dad's soap opera easier to hear. He relaxed a little more into the sofa and his leg leaned into mine. I didn't move (and why should I, he was the one in my space) –besides I liked it. A lot. Then Gio whispered something in his awful Mexican accent just like he used for my trophy and I lost it.

"Betty!!" hissed my Dad. "Shhh! You two are like a couple of otters!" He turned up the volume on the TV and tried to ignore us.

"Come on, let's leave him alone," I said and got up. I stood there looking down at Gio who was blatantly ignoring me. "Uh, hello…?"

"Shh, quiet, Betty, I'm watching a show here," Gio whispered loudly and then he glanced up at me with a smirk before grabbing my wrist and pulling me back down onto the sofa with a thud. We were squashed even closer next to each other than before. I saw him challenge me with his eyes, daring me to stay right where I was. So I did. After all, I had been the one to ask for a date; he's the one who'd backed down. If he wanted to flirt now, then I was game. I gave him a smug half-smile and folded my arms in defiance.

Gio and I sat silently for several minutes. I wasn't even paying attention to the TV anymore, my mind was far from the living room, as I remembered another time I had sat so close to him. The night we saw Wicked. We were in the same position as that night, he to my left. I glanced at my right shoulder, trying to picture his arm around me, his fingers curled over my arm. I sighed. Gio noticed and asked,

"What happened, what'd I miss?" His eyes were on the TV.

"Uh…" I stalled, not willing to admit that I hadn't been paying attention. "I thought you understood Spanish, I mean, how did you get what was going on earlier?"

"Hey, my so-so Italian only gets me so far," he whispered back.

I inhaled—he smelled really good. The music swelled, marking the end of the episode. Dad mumbled something in Spanish at the TV and got up from his chair and stalked out of the room.

"Whatever I missed, your dad doesn't look happy about it…"

"Yeah, you know how that guy's father stole the girlfriend's baby and is making her marry him—well, the guy is stepping aside and actually going along with it. Dad hates it when they're playing a couple to be soul mates or whatever but they give up on each other instead of fighting to be together…" I thought of Henry and scooted away a little on the pretense of shifting to face Gio.

"Yeah. There's no passion in that. I don't like it either."

"Me either…" my voice drifted off and I looked away. I had a definite feeling that Gio knew about passion—and right then I felt that his would be of a very different sort than Henry's. I looked into Gio's eyes and tried to gauge his mood.

"G-d, Betty, what are you doing to me?" his voice was a hoarse whisper.

If he had kissed me right then, I'd have kissed him back and then some. I didn't know what was wrong with me. "I don't know! What am I doing?" I said, my voice high and shaky.

Gio pressed his lips together tightly and I caught a glimpse of his dimples before they disappeared again. His sigh was more like a groan and then he said cheerily, "Keeping me out late on a work night! Do you know how early I have to get up to drive into the city and be ready for the lunch rush?" He stood up then and when I continued to sit there dazed and staring, he grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet. "So, what do ya think? You need another practice before this weekend or you think you got it?"

"You're the expert," I looked down at our hands; he still hadn't let go. "What do you think?"

"I think you want to go out there and show up some of these fashionistas."

"No, no, no. I just don't want to embarrass myself or Daniel."

Gio released his hold. "Well, I could help you practice once more before the week is up—" (at that, my face broke into a huge grin) "But, change of venue. I'm watching my sister's kids while she's at night school. Four little monsters but they love baseball and me. Piece of cake."

"Um, okay…but you know, if it's too much trouble, it'll be fine…if you'd rather not…"

"Come by the deli after work tomorrow and we'll go from there," he commanded. Gio looked to his left and right, like he was taking in my living room for the first time. The look on his face showed him to be far away in thought. I kind of looked around too, trying to see what could be bothering him, when suddenly his abrupt voice jerked me back to him. "I better go! Tell your dad dinner was great—it's just like something my mom makes, only when he uses comino, mom uses oregano!"

I walked him to the door and we said goodnight. I watched him go down the walk and through the gate. He stopped at the sidewalk just outside his van to get his keys out of his pocket and I saw him looking up at the sky. I could see his shoulders rise and fall as he took a deep breath; then he turned to look back and saw me still watching him. I gave an awkward little wave and closed the door.

What different feelings I had that night than the night of our first practice. As I leaned my back against the door and listened for his van, just as I had two days ago, I wasn't feeling the dread of another night of depressing music and self-pity. My step was light as I went up the stairs to my room.

"I'm really sad…"

"Well…sad I think we can work with…"

Gio had been doing exactly that and I felt a swell of gratitude for what he had accomplished so far.

Part Four

Work was work…my lightness of mood had carried over into the morning, but as the day had worn on, there were too many memories of Henry in that place and not enough to distract. By the workday's end, there was a tenseness in my whole body. Especially my right shoulder for some reason. I got my purse and my bag and headed to the ladies room to change my clothes. Amanda was inside at the mirror and Mark was with her--they stopped talking as soon as I walked in. Mark opened his mouth to say something snarky but I had already turned my back on them. I was out the door before it had even swung shut. I would just change at Gio's.

The deli was quiet, except for the radio that was on in the back. The jingle bells on the door signaled my arrival and Gio came out from the back. He was singing. He grinned at seeing me.

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" he smirked.

Already I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I groaned and plopped onto a stool at the counter, still clutching my bag and purse.

"What'd I say?"

"Yucky day. And I've got a kink in my shoulder. I think I wore out my batting arm yesterday."

Gio shook his head at me and sighed my name. "Betty, Betty…here, relax into my talented hands." He walked over and stood behind me and his fingers investigated my neck, working their way down across both shoulders. They retraced their steps, and then returned stronger back to my shoulder, only this time, his thumbs circled down my back and should blades. I couldn't relax; I was as tense as ever with his hands on me like that!

"You're not relaxing…" he nagged to me.

I rolled my shoulders and then dropped my head, willing myself to loosen up. "There you go…" he said softly. Gio's hands were strong, but gentle, and if I had been lying down, I'd have been lulled to sleep. "You have really thick hair," he said, trying to free his bracelet from some tangled strands. "Feel better?"

I turned to look him in the face. I thought, "who is this guy and how is it that we ever met or became friends?"

"Still pretty out of it, huh? Sleepness night--dreaming of me again?" he watched me with conceited eyes.

"Gio! Can you just show me where I can change?" I figured the best policy for dealing with his ego might be to just ignore it.

"Mmm,hmm. It's in the back, the door past the desk. I'll just finish up here…" He indicated for me to go first and followed me around the counter. I watched him over my shoulder and rolled my eyes at the way he swaggered. I thought he would have kept following but the doorbells jingled from some last minute customers.

As I rounded the desk, my curious eyes looked all around – this was the only other place besides his van that I'd seen that could give me any new clues to him. I surveyed the desktop; it was covered with a thick sheet of glass and all kinds of little notes or business cards were kept under its protection. There was a school portrait of his little sister, and several wallet-sized photos of other dark-haired, dark-eyed kids. And then I saw a picture of us—of me with Gio. I remembered when he took that picture with his cell phone the night of my birthday. He had a happy smile, but I noticed that it didn't reach into his eyes the way it usually did. He had tried so hard to salvage my pitiful birthday.

"…you're such a great girl…you're so…good…and…nice…"

And he was a great guy. I went into the bathroom and changed my clothes. When I came out, Gio was there, feet propped on the desk, clipboard in his hands; he was writing and didn't glance up to say, "Make sure you lock the safe this time."

"What?" I looked around and saw we weren't alone. I recognized the guy; he worked in the deli part-time.

"And don't be late on Saturday!" Gio continued bossing his employee back out to the front, so I decided just to wait in the back. I leaned against the desk, waiting and listening and thinking.

Gio returned; he squeezed past me before I had a chance to move out of his way and started rummaging in his desk drawer for something. I watched him from above, studying that round head of his and suddenly I had the strangest desire to rub my palm against that buzzed hairline. I bet it felt prickly.

Gio stood up, suddenly finished, and surprised me by putting a baseball cap over my head.

"Wh-what is this?" I laughed.

"One of my favorites—take good care of it!" he straightened the ball cap, his fingers brushing across my bangs, squashed under the hat. "Nice…" he laughed. "Come on, come on! We gotta go!" He nudged me to my feet and towards the back door. "The monsters are waiting!" He grabbed a cooler as we went out.

We headed into traffic. "So, where are we going?" I asked.

"Not so far from your place. Middle Village. They'll already be at my mom's, so we'll pick them up there."

"Will I get to meet her—your mom?"

"You couldn't avoid it, even if you wanted to—" Gio grinned, but I was quick to assure him that I didn't want to avoid his mother. He gave me a sidelong glance, "She wants to meet you…"

"Gio…what did you tell her about me?" I asked accusingly; the thought made me nervous.

"Enough…"

"Ohhhh, Gosh…." I whined, wishing for an escape.

"Relax!"

"Easy for you to say."

Gio just smiled at me and turned on the radio. After several minutes, I couldn't stand it and I asked again, "So, what did you tell her about me?"

"Well, which time? Because there was the day I first met you, and you got me fired. And then there was the time you vandalized my deli…"

I groaned loudly.

"And then Antonella told her all about the principal expelling you…"

"Oh, Gio!!" I was sincerely mortified.

He laughed, "No worries, B. I told her you were a good friend and a nice girl from the neighborhood. She likes that you're a writer. But I have to warn you, my family is not as…subtle…as yours around people. There's just too many of them. They say what's on their mind…and my cousin told everyone about the carriage I borrowed." Gio gave me a significant look. "Think you can handle it?"

The sincerity in his eyes made me feel a little better. "Sure…" I sounded hesitant.

"Just talk to her. You don't have to make a commitment," he teased.

()()()

Meeting Gio's family (well, some of them at least) had gone much easier than I had expected, and Gio really gave me a hard time about it later. His mother had been very friendly, but not more than friendly, although I caught her staring more than once with a euphoric look in her eyes. Gio had been…well, Gio….same as he ever was. Except…

Something had intrigued me…it was a moment, a look on his face while he held his small niece, her dark hair and eyes so much like his that she could have been his daughter, and I had a vision of what he would be as a father. That was the moment, and I will always be able to say exactly when it happened and why. Was it love? No. That would be premature. It was a shift. Away from the past, and Henry, and pointless what-ifs. It was a shift towards Gio.

I made a decision on the drive home—to somehow convince him that my feelings for him were real and worth exploring. I wasn't sure he would believe me; I wasn't even sure how I could explain it, but I was determined to try.

We were getting closer to my house. I really wanted to tell him how I felt before the night was over and I knew that I was running out of time. "Gio?"

"Yeah?"

"I had fun tonight…"

"Yeah…"

"Actually, I had fun with you all week, just in case I didn't say it before…"

"Good." He smiled at me, but I could see he was getting a worried look in his eyes.

I sighed, frustrated. "I don't know why this is so hard…"

"Look, Betty—" he began.

"I'm just going to tell you everything—I don't know what else I can do. I know you think I want you to be my rebound guy, and maybe I was looking for a distraction when I asked you about going out sometime--but it doesn't have anything to do with how I felt about you before—"

"Hold on, hold on there—" Gio pulled the van over and came to a stop. He shifted the gear to Park. He left the engine running and turned to face me, skeptically. "What do you mean, before…?"

I grimaced, knowing I would be showing most of my cards and not totally ready to give him such an advantage. "Well, you're so worried that my feelings for you are a rebound thing, which would make sense if I had only noticed you after Henry and I broke up, but that's not the case!

"More."

"Okay, fine. Do you remember when you came over to help with Hilda's sink?"

"Yes. Go on."

"And you told us how you'd make every second count? How you'd listen to music from a rooftop or go out dancing…?"

"Don't forget the ice cream."

I ignored the ice cream comment. "I liked it. I liked dancing with you, even though you embarrass me. And I felt guilty when Henry came in and noticed how much fun I was having with you."

"More."

"Alright, the night you took Hilda out. I was jealous."

"Ahhh, I thought so. I wasn't sure; I thought maybe you were just being annoying."

I glared at him. "You were just as annoying! Constantly trying to show us up; you looked like you were having a real good time with my sister!" There was still a twinge of that old jealousy.

"She didn't think so. And that night, which I really don't care to remember, proves nothing." Gio stared obstinately.

I took a steadying breath, because it really had not been my intention to start an argument. "Well, she wasn't the only one who guessed it—you were a really touchy subject for Henry…"

"Heh!" Gio snorted proudly.

"I broke my promise to him—" I winced, wondering whether he would be angry or pleased—mad that I had promised to give him up or happy that I had not been able to.

"What did you promise?" Gio's eyes narrowed at me.

"Not to see you any more."

"When."

"Around the time I did the Phil Roth article and after..."

"Hmph," he grunted. He thought for a moment and then started nodding, "You know, I wondered what was up. I never saw you around, you stopped coming in, you didn't return my messages. Didn't seem like you."

"Well, just to be completely fair, Henry did not force me to stop seeing you. I offered because I thought it would make things easier. I'm sorry, I was just trying to do the right thing."

"Yeah, that sounds like you," he sounded annoyed.

"Well, I tried and I couldn't, so doesn't that say anything to you?"

"I liked it better when you were saying you liked dancing with me…this other stuff….ehhh, I dunno, but there is one thing you haven't said…"

"What, what-what?" I was really frustrated at that point. Nothing had come out like I'd planned.

"If he came back tomorrow…" Gio's eyes glistened from the street light. "Then it'd be so-long Gio and you'd go back with him, wouldn't you?"

I blinked, hesitating. I was a little stunned that he had hit upon the very thing I had asked myself only a few hours earlier. He wouldn't believe my answer. The moment that I hesitated was enough, and Gio put the van in drive and pulled back onto the street.

"You know, if I said 'no', that I had been living in a fantasy world the whole time I was with Henry, or that I couldn't forgive him, ever, for leaving me, or maybe that I had started thinking that Henry had actually been a rebound guy—it doesn't matter! You're not going to believe me! The truth is that I didn't love him enough to leave everything behind and move to Tucson to be with him. It's not like I didn't think of it—but that's not my dream. And I didn't love him enough to give up my dream."

I felt the tears spill down my cheeks and I hid my face in the window. I could see my house; I was home. Gio parked the van. I was too upset to deal with any more of his obnoxious comebacks and I didn't even look at him, I just unbuckled and got out of the van. I heard his door shut and his quick footsteps,

"Betty, wait!"

I wiped my face and turned back to him. The look on his face told me everything. He cared, this was not some jerk guy, this was one of the good guys and he didn't offer a fantasy, what he offered was real. I spoke before he could, "I just wanted you to believe me. I wanted you to know that I see the good things about you, that you have…qualities…that I admire. I'm not comparing you to him anymore, I just want to get to know you better…because I think you're a great guy and I don't want to lose out on something just because of…bad timing!"

"Can I talk now?"

I closed my eyes, sighing heavily. "What."

Gio kind of smacked his face, first the left cheek, then the right. He bent himself over, letting his arms just hang there and groaned, shaking off all the previous tension. He stood up and took a deep breath. "Okay, so here's the deal………I think I'm falling in-love with you." He shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I have liked you for a very long time, Betty. I know I haven't really done a good job of showing it, but…G-d, you drive me crazy sometimes. You can be really annoying. You argue about everything. You think too much! It's not a crush. I got over that a long time ago…but…I don't want to mess this up. It would be so easy to let you jump into this, but…it wouldn't be right—"

"I thought you said to stop worrying about the right way to be and just be!!" I took a step towards him.

He gazed at the top of my head, down my face and to our feet. "Since when do you listen to me? Anyway, why do you think I've been letting you hang around me all week? I want to be with you! And before you start thinking I'm some kind of noble guy or something, I'm not just trying to protect you from yourself-- I'm mostly trying to protect myself from you! Now…" Gio grabbed my shoulders and pulled me against his chest. He spoke warm and breathy into my ear, "I'm going to kiss you, so don't hit me—and then we say goodnight, and tomorrow when I see you, don't be batting your eyes at me, you got it, Suarez? This is gonna take some time…and I'm not going anywhere."

He put my arms around his neck, one by one and then he pulled me against him in a full embrace. With his arms wrapped around me, he nudged my face towards him with his nose, smiling against my cheek…and then he closed his eyes and kissed me. And I definitely kissed him back.

()()()

To be continued, (to deal with Henry's return and proposal!)