Sorry for the delay on this update...my life has been absolutely crazy over the past few months...

This wasn't where I wanted to originally end this chapter, but I figured rather than keeping people waiting any longer, I would just do it in two parts. So if the ending feels a little abrupt, that's why. Also, I apologize if it doesn't jive quite right...I haven't figured out how to rectify it yet, but it just seems a little off to me. I hope you like it though : )

Hopefully, once I get settled into my new apartment and get my new laptop, I'll be able to get back to this and post the 2nd part sooner (at least before the wedding). For everyone who has been patiently waiting...(especially Stu, who is positively languishing from fic update withdrawal...)

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Later that same day, as Gio was cleaning up and getting ready to make the trip home, his mother had called and invited him over for dinner. She did this often when no one else was around; even though he was one of the older children, and she was far from having empty nest syndrome, he still got regular calls from his parents to come home and eat dinner. Normally he didn't mind. It was nice to come home and not have to make yourself something to eat after you'd been making everyone else something to eat all day long. Plus, he liked spending time with his family. He was old enough to appreciate not having them around every second of the day and to miss them when they weren't.

Tonight though, was a different story altogether. He was still going over the conversation with Betty in his head every 5 seconds, it felt like. For once, he had something on his mind that he definitely did not want to share with his family; Nella already knew too much, and she wasn't exactly adept in keeping her mouth shut when it counted. Besides that, he really wasn't sure how good of company he would make. But if there was one thing Maria Rossi wouldn't let you get away with, it was refusing to come have dinner at home. She had a devious way about her, where she would apologize and tell you not to worry about it, change the subject, and BAM! Before you knew it, you were apologizing to her, changing your plans and telling her you'd be over in half an hour. He couldn't remember a single time when he'd told her he couldn't come over that night, and actually did whatever it was he originally had planned. And his father was no help; he'd lived with the woman for 31 years and never managed to outflank her about dinner.

As usual, he had tried to make an excuse. And as usual, he had ended up at his parent's house anyway. Still in a contemplative mood, he and Nella set the table in near silence, which had to be a record. She watched him curiously throughout the process, unnoticed by him, but saying nothing.

"What's wrong with you?" Nella finally asked, bluntly.

"What?" he asked. "Nothing's wrong."

Better make it count. She'll see right through you.

He gave her a goofy grin "What's wrong with you? Why are you screaming like that?"

She looked at him warily and tensed, ready to run. "I'm not screaming," she said tentatively.

"Oh no?" he asked, as he waggled his eyebrows at her. He lunged at her and grabbed her by the ribs, tickling her furiously. Nella started howling in between bouts of laughter. Just at that time his father walked in the room. Seeing the pair of them, he chuckled and said to no one in particular, "I thought I heard Gio come in." He sat down at the table and poured himself some water. A few seconds later, Maria appeared in the dining room doorway holding a large steaming pot.

"Giovanni! Sometimes I can't believe you're nearly 28 years old…It's time for dinner. Put your sister down."

Gio grinned at his mother sheepishly, gave Nella's ribs one last poke and let go of her. He sat down at the table and dug in, but it was only matter of time before his thoughts returned to Betty.

--

Maria watched Gio evade question after question as she tried to draw out a conversation about his day, but didn't bring any undue attention to it; he didn't seem to notice he was doing it. Or at the very least, thought he was getting away with it. But her son was not normally this quiet- she hadn't needed to hold him for more than 10 seconds after he had been born to find that out.

After a lengthy and uncharacteristic silence, Nella, who was ever shrewd but sadly lacking in tact, said abruptly, "What, no amazing story about Braces today?"

Maria, who normally would not have let Antonella get away with a comment like that, was hanging on his response but busied herself by fussing with one of the dishes of food in front of her and pretending to have missed the exchange. She had heard both of them talking about this girl before, and had her suspicions. She watched his expression carefully with downcast eyes. And saw what she wanted to see.

Gio remained silent for a few seconds, his brow furrowed, wondering what he could say. "Nella," he had eventually admonished without any enthusiasm. "Her name is Betty."

Unaware of their mother's scrutiny, Nella gave Gio a hard look and frowned, but dropped it. She might not have been so tactful, but she certainly wasn't cruel, at least not to her favorite brother.

Gio looked up in time to see his father trying to go back to eating disinterestedly, and his mother giving him a look so full of concern and pity that it made him cringe inwardly. He kept his eyes averted and concentrated on his food, and fervently thanked God that his other siblings hadn't seen fit to join them at the dinner table that night.

He knew it wasn't going to help anything in the end because his mother would wait until she got him alone in the kitchen after dinner and quietly force it out of him with the same mystical power she used to coerce you into coming over for dinner. And he would tell her, because he could tell her anything.

Sure enough, not fifteen minutes had passed after dinner when his mother found him washing the dishes in the kitchen. She was a wise woman; she knew that a man with his hands in the dishwater was a man with no easy escape. He felt her come into the room. She came up behind him and settled a hand on his shoulder. He briefly closed his eyes, wishing that this conversation wasn't about to take place. He wasn't ready to share Betty with his world; as it was Nella knew more than he was comfortable with.

"Gio," Maria said softly. She saw him close his eyes; steeling himself for the onslaught, she thought amusedly.

So brave and strong the men in this family all think they have to be, she mused absently, fondly toying with the long lock of hair that curled around his collar. He had tensed up a bit, but not responded. She shifted to the side so that she could look him in the eye.

"You like this girl…Betty?"

It came out more as a statement than a question. His eyes opened and connected with hers. She could see doubt, guilt and a weary sort of resignation in his gaze. It was obvious that the subject clearly pained him.

"She's the one giving you all these troubles." Another soft-spoken statement. He closed his eyes again and when they reopened, all of the earlier emotion had been shuttered.

Ah, Maria thought, they don't stay children for long, do they?

"Mom, Betty is just a friend," Gio said, doing his level best to keep his voice steady.

She gave him a sympathetic look, caressed his cheek and joked softly, "Since when is my handsome boy 'just friends' with the ladies?"

That had been the wrong thing to say- immediately, the pained expression returned to his face, and she was sorry for it. But she waited him out.

Giving her a tormented look that wrenched her heart (no mother ever wanted to see her child go through such pain), he said, with more confidence than he felt, "I'm just friends with this one. She doesn't need me; she already has a boyfriend."

His mother toyed with his hair a bit more. Even though he was 27 years old, the action still comforted him, as it always had.

"That doesn't stop you from loving her though, does it?" Maria asked simply.

Gio's heart began to pound. He had only started admitting to himself that he was seriously attracted recently; hearing his mother talk about love was patently alarming. Especially when the situation was so hopeless.

"Mom, it doesn't matter how I feel about her- she's already with another guy," he said matter-of-factly, still trying to forget the word 'love' that was flying around in his head now, and closing her out completely. "Besides, I think I said something that upset her anyway. I don't even know if she's still talking to me…"

"Oh, Giovanni. Caro ragazzo," Maria murmured the familiar endearment and hugged him. "Even if she does not see what a treasure you are, you must make things right between you. You will always regret it if you don't even make an attempt."

He remained silent. Maria looked in his eyes again. "The good things in life never come easy. Be patient with her, son." And with another caress on his cheek, she turned and left him to his thoughts.

Gio dropped his head and stared at his hands in the dishwater. He expelled a deep sigh, glad that his mother had said her piece and left him, but feeling more alone than ever as he watched the last rays of sunlight dance over the kitchen and disappear on the horizon.

--

Gio put it off for as long as he could, but his parents had raised him to take responsibility for his actions, and by the time the normal lunch rush had rolled around, he was feeling so guilty over his insinuations and the whole conversation with Betty the day before that he knew he couldn't take it any longer. Bowing to the inevitable (who had he been kidding when he convinced himself he had his emotions under control when it came to her?), he did something that no floundering first-time business owner who couldn't even afford another employee quite yet would have done. He put a sign on the door saying that he'd stepped out for 20 minutes, locked the door behind him, and made his way down the street towards the Meade building.

Even though he knew unequivocally that he was doing the right thing in going up and apologizing to her, he couldn't help but feeling apprehensive. And this was way beyond the normal apprehensive you felt when you were just eating humble pie.

He reached the front door of the building and let himself in. If ever there was a chance to turn back, this was it. But there was no chickening out of this one- dinner at his parents' house last night had taken care of that. His mother was right. If he didn't make things right between them, no matter how he felt, or how she felt, it would always be there. Looming. He couldn't deal with love and guilt at the same time.

The thought had him stopping in the middle of the lobby and running his hands over his face in disbelief.

No, not love. He snorted; that had sounded weak even to him. He really didn't need this right now. But standing in the middle of the lobby wasn't getting him anywhere, so he started towards the elevator once again.

His mind skipped back to last night's dinner-oh, he hadn't brought yesterday's conversation between he and Betty up. If he had been stupid enough to repeat their verbal exchanges, his father would have favored him with the reproachful look that said 'I raised you better than to speak to a lady like that, boy.' And his mother would have slapped him upside the head for sure. It hadn't been easy though- he was used to sharing things about his day with the family. But the only thing worth noting about yesterday had been his encounter with Betty, and he'd had trouble concentrating on little else. Oh, and they had noticed his lack of Betty banter, all right. Even he could tell that.

He stepped up to the elevator and waited for everyone to file out, a hole beginning to gnaw itself low in his gut. He got into the elevator and pushed the floor button without even looking at it, the anxious churning inside him demanding his attention.

Just play it cool and be serious. She'll forgive you. She has to.

But he wasn't at all sure about that; in fact he was really downright worried about it. He really didn't know how he would handle it if she decided she never wanted to talk to him again, which he admitted she would be completely justified in doing. Especially now that he was beginning to realize how serious his feelings were. Mentally he kicked himself again for starting trouble. What had been the point?

Nothing. You're just jealous and acting like a teenager.

Disgusted with the realization that he was acting adolescent, yet again, he tried to stop thinking about it altogether. He looked at the elevator display. Nineteenth floor. He hated how interminable the elevator here seemed some days. Like the days when you'd stuck your foot in your mouth and didn't know if you could get it back out again. He watched the numbers slowly climb and frowned. The roiling in his stomach was starting to subside (or he was building a tolerance to it; either way he was feeling it less, and that was fine by him), but he still couldn't shake the feeling that something just felt…wrong.

The bell finally dinged and the door opened. Gio heaved out a heartfelt sigh, and stuck both his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He stepped out and focused only on his path, ignoring everything that came into his peripheral vision.

--

Gio strode purposefully past the reception desk, his no-nonsense demeanor attracting Amanda's attention. He was walking too fast for her to address him in her normal catty manner; she'd tried of course, but he'd ignored her completely. So she dropped the headset, disconnecting the call that had been waiting on the line, and took off after him. Following him to Betty's desk (Where else would he be going, she thought, rolling her eyes), she jumped behind a partition and peeked around the corner, straining to hear the conversation. Not for the first time did she catch him gazing at Betty with…that look. And not for the first time did it kind of bring her down.

She didn't have a problem getting sex. But she'd never gotten that look. And Betty always seemed to have men throwing it her way, even if they were just nerdy accountants or sandwich makers. Hearing the low timbre of Gio's voice, she turned off her internal thoughts and listened in earnest, wondering how much of this she could use against Betty in the near future….

TBC

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