“I don’t know. My year of living rent free is ending soon. My parents and I had a deal and I’m not sure the paycheck from the theatre is going to totally cover my rent and expenses.”
“Gigi.”
“What?”
“I can pay your rent,” I say, as if it’s the most obvious solution.
“With your father’s money?”
“It’s complicated to explain but I’ve been working for my Aunt Kat for a couple of years. I have a decent savings.”
“Why is it complicated to explain? What did you do?”
“I helped her with odd jobs here and there. She manages a lot of celebrities.”
“You helped with security?”
“Sometimes.”
“I appreciate the offer, Knox, but I can figure it out. If the schedule conflicts with the standardized patient gig, I can always find something part time somewhere else.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Work?”
“Why would you work at a goddamn mini-mart when you can simply accept some help?”
“I don’t want to take any more handouts from my parents. I’m a big girl. I’ve got to figure out this life thing on my own.”
“Not from your parents, Gigi.” I’m losing my patience with her. “From the man you’re fucking!”
“You’re in a bad mood.”
“I wasn’t fifteen minutes ago.”
“Let’s talk about this another time.”
“Are you planning on taking New Jersey Transit to rehearsals as well or am I allowed to drive you?”
“About that–“
“This is bullshit.”
“Dropping me off and picking me up every day is excessive. I think I’m ready to learn how to drive.”
“You’re not going to learn how to drive, get your license, and buy a car in a week. And don’t forget about my original reason for being here. I’m supposed to be protecting you until we get the all clear.”
“Speaking of the all clear, there’s a meeting at your house tomorrow night. Did you know that?”
“No, I haven’t talked to my parents today.”
“Maybe that’s what we’re meeting about and then this whole conversation would have been for naught.”
“Well, not really.”
“Why?”
“I’m still not understanding why you’ll accept these ten-dollar flowers from me but you won’t take rent money.”
“My need to carry my own weight has nothing to do with what’s going on between us. Even if I was dating the billionaire who owns Facebook, I’d want to be a working actress who pays her own bills.”
I stop talking and turn on some tunes. This is some sort of single woman, I can buy my own shit, power trip she’s on and I’m never going to win the debate. I don’t believe for a second if I was a billionaire that she’d want to work every damn day.
But whatever.
Today is still her day that we’re celebrating, so I switch the radio to a station she likes. If there’s anything I’ve learned from watching my parents’ relationship, is that it’s much easier to go along with crazy than to fight reason.
I lay my hand palm side up on the console in between our seats and she quietly clasps it.
“I can’t wait to eat,” she comments after a long pause. “It smells good.”
“I went to that restaurant on Pine Street that you like.”
“Perfect… and maybe after we eat, we play a little Uno.”
I squeeze her hand and smile.
At this point, Uno is code for “we’ll be fucking by the end of the night” between me and Gigi now, so I like that plan.
“Yeah, Queenie, I’m game.”
Twenty-Three
Gigi
The Next Day
* * *
I’m leaning up against the wall of Uncle Roman’s library with a sore pussy and a smile from ear-to-ear because that’s the guaranteed reaction I’m sure to have whenever Knox is around.
“Ooh, yes! Uh-huh, right there.”
He’s teasing me by reenacting some of the sounds I made last night in bed, and I’m about to whack him across the head with a hardcover edition of Think And Grow Rich when Uncle Cutter takes us by surprise by walking in the room.
I press my palms against Knox's hard chest to try and push him away as the door opens but he won’t let me and roots himself to the floor. He turns his head to acknowledge my uncle, but doesn’t move one inch away from me.
A knowing smirk spreads across Uncle Cutter’s face, and my stomach drops. Suddenly I feel like a kid who's been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
My uncle locks the door behind him and has a seat at the massive mahogany desk in the center of the room.
“So…what’s going on with you two?”
“Nothing,” I answer defensively.
“Nothing, huh?”
“Why’d you lock the door behind you?” Knox asks him.
“Because if anyone else had entered this room and saw what I just saw, there would be a very different conversation happening in here. So, I’m going to ask you both again, what’s going on with you two?”
I am my Uncle's favorite niece (and his only niece), and I'm banking on the fact that he still looks at me as his little peanut will get me over so I deny it again.
“Nothing is going on, Uncle Cutter. All you saw was me and Knox play fighting like we always have since we were kids.”
“Yeah, but you two aren’t kids anymore and play fighting at this age is called fucking.”
My eyes widen at my uncle’s use of explicit language. He’s an uninhibited type of man, so I’m not truly surprised by the words he’s using, but the thing is that he’s never used them with me. I’m his little Gigi, his favorite niece.
Knox finally gives me some distance, and I take a few more steps away from him completely. I need to convince Uncle Cutter that he didn’t see what he thought he saw because whatever me and Knox are doing, I’m not ready to discuss it with the entire family in this house tonight.
“I can see you two weren’t really prepared to explain this, so let me just offer a few words of wisdom. Knox, you have always been like a nephew to me. I have thought of you as my blood relative because your father is like a brother to me, but let’s be clear — we are not blood related and you and Gigi have no familial connection.
“Having said that, we’ve raised you both as if you were family. So if this is a casual thing you tried because you’re living in close quarters, then stop that shit right now. But if you two are doing something serious, then tell the family and tell them soon. A romantic relationship between you may complicate things for some people in this family, but it isn’t the end of the world.”
Knox and I remain quiet throughout my Uncle’s entire speech and when he’s finished, we still don’t say a word. He’s right. This wasn’t something we expected to have to explain or answer to — at least I didn’t.
“Your father will be here in about fifteen minutes, Gigi. In the meantime, lock this door after I leave or keep your distance from each other until you decide how you’re going to handle this.”