The doctor and the nurse assured them that everything was fine, which Gio knew on an intellectual level was true, but emotionally . . . he was a wreck.
Emma didn’t fight him all that hard when he turned the TV on and found something for her to binge-watch. She turned her phone off and gave in to his pressure of taking the day off.
Dante called an hour into the show, and Gio excused himself to answer it.
Gio explained what happened and ended it with “. . . I lost five years off my life watching her pass out.”
“She’s okay now, though, right?”
“She is.”
“How are you doing? I know you’re taking care of her, but are you getting any rest?”
“You sound like my mother.”
Dante laughed. “She put me up to the questions. You’re with the woman you love when she needs you. Chloe ran off to fucking Bali and wouldn’t return my calls. No sympathy for you, my friend.”
“God love my sister.”
“I’ll keep her anyway.”
“Damn well better.”
They laughed.
“Seriously, though . . . you know everyone is dying to get over there and help.”
Gio scratched the stubble on his face. He hadn’t shaved and it was starting to itch. “How about Sunday? Emma has a big test on Monday, and she could use a positive distraction.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll let the others know,” Dante said.
“We don’t have sawhorses or plywood in the sheds.”
“We’ll come prepared.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Are you ready for this?” Gio asked right before they turned up the drive to Emma’s parents’ Temecula home.
“No. But we’re doing it anyway.”
Emma told Gio the gate code when they approached.
“Looks a lot like your place,” Gio observed out loud.
“Only bigger.”
“Exactly my thought.” Gio turned to her once they parked the car. “Do you think he’s really in there?”
“My mother said he was coming.”
“Your father won’t likely come,” Beth said.
“You’re very persuasive, Mom. Make him.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“It’s something that affects everyone in our family. I’m sorry for sounding cryptic without explanation, but I only have the stamina to tell all of this once. I refuse to have this conversation four times.”
“Stamina? Are you okay?”
“I’ve had better months.”
“I’m worried.”
“I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Shortly after the conversation with her mother, a text message came through confirming the time.
Ryan was easy . . . His worry was evident, but he didn’t press.
“My mother has a live-in housekeeper. Her name is Christy,” Emma informed Gio when they got out of the car.
“A servant?”
“Superrich people don’t like to do their own laundry.”
“I’m not a fan of laundry either,” he teased.
She chuckled and Gio grasped her hand.
It was twilight, and a dinner invitation had been given. Emma wasn’t sure how that was going to go. The intention was to get the news out of the way as quickly as possible so it didn’t weigh on her during a polite meal.
Gio knocked on the door.
Emma sucked in a deep, fortifying breath.
Beth answered. “Since when do you knock?”
She put her arms around Emma and hugged her.
“When Dad is here, I knock.”
Beth turned to Gio, hugged him, too. “Thank you for having us,” Gio said.
“Come in, come in.”
Emma placed her purse on the table in the foyer and walked beside Gio through the hall and to the great room of her parents’ home.
She heard the voices of her brothers and father.
The smells coming from the kitchen said roast with onions and garlic.
Ryan jumped to his feet the second she rounded the corner. “Emma.” He hugged her hard, put his lips to her ear, and whispered, “He’s in rare form tonight.”
Great!
Ryan pulled back, extended a hand to Gio. “You must be Gio. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good, I hope.”
Ryan laughed. “If it wasn’t, we’d be having a less polite conversation.”
Emma’s jaw dropped.
Gio shook Ryan’s hand with renewed enthusiasm. “I like that attitude.”
“Testosterone much?” Emma asked.
“Setting boundaries and expectations early is important,” Ryan said.
“Duly noted,” Gio replied.
Emma smiled. If there was one family member she wanted Gio to get along with, it was Ryan. Her brother took little shit, was honest to the point of rudeness, and had more integrity than a monk.
Gio pushed forward and extended a hand to Robert. “Mr. Rutledge, nice to see you again.”
“Surprised to see you. I thought this was a family meeting.”
“I’m here for Emma.”
Richard shook Gio’s hand, and then Gio returned to Emma’s side.
“What can I get you to drink?” Beth asked. “Emma, chardonnay before dinner?”
Emma smiled. “I’m fine.”
Beth raised an eyebrow.
“Giovanni?”
“I’m good as well.”
Robert narrowed his gaze. “That’s unlike you, Emma. Seems you always have wine when there’s a family meal.”
“It helps with the tension,” Ryan called out.
Every one of them had a drink in their hand. Her father held a short highball glass, likely filled with scotch. Richard had a glass of wine, and Ryan curled his fingers around a beer bottle.
“You’re pregnant,” Robert said flat out, eyes accusing. “Is that what this is about?”
Beth gasped.
Anger rose in Emma’s chest. She looked at Gio. “That would be easy. Wouldn’t it?”
Gio sighed. “Much easier.”
“No, Father. I am not pregnant. I wouldn’t call a family meeting if the condom broke.”
Beth blew out a breath. “Can we please sit?”
Emma and Gio sat on one end of the sofa.
Ryan sat poised on the edge of the fireplace hearth.
Richard and Beth took up wing chairs, and her father stood leaning against the fireplace as if he were lording over all of them.
“You’ve ignored my secretary’s calls,” Robert said accusingly.
“I have.”
“You show up in Napa. Talk to nearly everyone in the room, spreading an interesting version of what the land you’re living on is for . . . then tell me when you’re available to talk and proceed to ignore my calls.”
It was no shock to Emma that her father instantly tried to dominate the conversation and make this all about him.
She squeezed Gio’s hand and closed her eyes.
“If you would give Emma a chance to talk, Mr. Rutledge, you’ll understand why.”
“And who are you?” Robert tossed his anger at Gio. “Beth said a restaurateur, but I looked up your name. A family trust, two-bit nothing in San Diego does not make you—”