Page 33 of And Everything In Between (Love By Any Means #3)

Two Weeks Later

Giovanni slammed the shop door behind him, jaw clenched so tight it popped.

He’d been on the phone for three hours straight with the network, listening to them ramble off ideas that they wanted to change.

Which was damn near everything about the show, his vision, his approach, even the damn name.

Now that the check cleared, they wanted him to act like he was some reality TV character.

And Sienna was still inserting herself into production meetings, suggesting “improvements” to his builds that would turn authentic craftsmanship into reality TV bullshit.

He tossed his keys onto the counter hard enough to make them skid across the granite and fall onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he muttered, not bothering to pick them up.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Again. He ignored it.

Again. He needed five minutes without someone demanding a piece of him, asking for decisions, needing his approval, trying to shape him into whatever would get the most views.

It had never been about that, and he was about to resort to different measures if his words weren’t getting through.

He was wondering if he’d gone soft. Why was he having to repeat himself?

The tension had been building for days now.

Too many plates spinning, too many people pulling him in different directions.

Spirit had noticed it and told him to go home before he snapped at somebody who didn’t deserve it.

He left his home office and drove aimlessly until he ended up at his sanctuary, the shop.

The show was his vision. It wasn’t some damn circus. And he damn sure didn’t want to become the clown. Giovanni grabbed a beer from the fridge. and slammed the door. He rolled his shoulders and took a swig.

He didn’t hear the door at first. But he felt the shift in the air, her presence was unmistakable.

He turned to find Paige standing in the doorway of his apartment above the shop, still in her work clothes, a simple black dress, and heels that made his mouth salivate even though he was mad at the world.

“Bad day?” she asked, her voice so calm it almost made him angrier. Because now he was going to have to take from her instead of give. “Don’t go there. Answer me.”

He needed her and she wasn’t counting how many times.

She was showing up because that’s what you do when your person’s peace is under attack.

Paige had gotten a text from Spirit twenty minutes ago that simply said: He’s not good.

If you can pull up, do it. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t need to.

Giovanni wasn’t a man who cracked easily. He didn’t throw tantrums or sulk. He carried things quietly, stoically, until the weight started showing up in the way he moved, the way he shut down.

“You could say that,” he replied, sharper than he meant to. He turned away, not wanting her to see the frown on his face. Paige didn’t flinch. Didn’t retreat. She closed the distance between them, set her purse on the counter.

“You want to talk about it?” she asked, sitting beside him, looping her arm around his. Her chin rested on his bicep.

“Nah, not really.” He shook his head. “All I’ve been doing is talking. I’m sick of my own voice at this point.”

She nodded, understanding without pressing. “You eat yet?”

He hadn’t. Hadn’t even thought about it. Giovanni looked over at her. His tired eyes told her all she needed to know.

“I figured. Can I feed you?” she asked, kicking off her heels and moving to the fridge. She began to pull out ingredients. He didn’t have much in here, but she worked with what she had and decided on club sandwiches and French fries.

Giovanni watched her move; thankful she didn’t try to fill the silence with false reassurances or solutions. Because he wasn’t trying to hear it. And if she were in his shoes, she wouldn’t want too either. They understood the solace-seeking parts of each other. Silence was never personal.

“The network wants to change everything.” The words spilled out despite himself. “They want to make it flashy. Gimmicky. Like every other bullshit car show on TV. All the shit I specifically said I wouldn’t do.”

Paige didn’t look up from the vegetables she was chopping, but he knew she was listening. Her rhythm never faltered.

“And Sienna’s back on her bullshit, trying to get her fingerprints all over the project. Making ‘creative suggestions’ through Darren, like I don’t know exactly what she’s doing.”

The knife paused momentarily at the mention of Sienna, then resumed.

He scoffed. “Had the nerve to say the main build was ‘too sentimental.’ The expensive build would sell more. That car’s the centerpiece. Ain’t no cutting it from the pilot.”

“I can’t wait to see this messy ass bitch,” Paige said under her breath. “Imma show her a thing or two.”

Finally, they made eye contact. He smirked before continuing.

“Spirit says I should walk away if they can’t respect my shit. But this is the biggest opportunity I’ve ever had. A platform to show kids who look like me that they can build something from nothing.”

Paige set the knife down and turned to face him. “Well then, you fight to keep it that way,” she said simply. “Because there’s no show without you. You haven’t had a good feeling about them from the start.”

She moved to him then, took his face in her hands. Her palms were cool against his skin.

“You built your name without them,” she continued. “You’ll keep building with or without them. What’s for you is for you. Maybe this is not the route for you.”

Giovanni exhaled, some of the tension seeping out of his shoulders.

“I’m irritated as fuck,” he admitted.

“I know.”

She guided him to the couch, gestured for him to sit, and then positioned herself behind him. Her fingers found the knotted muscles at the base of his neck as she massaged his shoulders.

“You don’t have to fix it tonight,” she said as her thumbs slid up his spine. “But you also can’t give up or give in. You earned this.”

Giovanni let his head fall forward, surrendering to her touch. And she was right; he couldn’t give this up and he’d been mad promises and muthafuckas were going to keep their word.

“Turn around.” He did, and she settled onto his lap, straddling him, still working her way down his shoulders and arms.

With her this close, he could smell the coconut oil in her hair, the faint trace of perfume at her throat. Could feel the warmth of her through the thin fabric of her dress.

“I don’t deserve you.” The words slipped out before he could catch them.

Paige stopped, tilted his chin up so he had to look at her.

“Yes, you do. And I deserve you, too. That’s how this works.”

“I ain’t never had a woman I could fall apart around,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Never wanted to. Until now.”

Her eyes softened at his words, but she didn’t look away. She held his gaze, letting him know he was safe with her.

“You don’t have to be the strong one with me. That’s the point.”

“I hear you, P. But it doesn’t feel that easy.”

“Ok, I’ll be vulnerable with you too. Every time something good happens, I brace myself. Like I know it’s gonna cost me, and it usually does. I spiral. I work myself up. Figure out the solution and execute. I don’t even give people a chance to disappoint me.”

Without a word, he stepped in and folded her into his chest, burying his face in the curve of her neck.

Her arms followed, and together they stood, breathing in sync, letting silence speak for them.

Her words still echoed in his head; I don’t even give people a chance to disappoint me. And she’d given him one.

He didn’t take that lightly.

Giovanni pressed a kiss to the skin beneath her ear. “Thank you for telling me that,” he murmured. “I won’t make you regret it.”

Her stomach growled, loud and undeniable.

“My bad, baby. Let’s eat.”

Later, after they’d eaten and the dishes were done, after she’d made him laugh with stories about how she could never take a nigga with his toes hanging over his slides seriously.

“Yo, you funny ass shit. I know you gave these lame ass niggas a run for their money as a young tender.”

“And DID, but I’m still a young tender.”

“Thank you.” Shifting the conversation again. He ain’t wanna hear or even think about her being with someone else.

She pressed a kiss to his sternum, right over his heart. “Always.”

And as sleep began to pull at him, Giovanni felt something click into place. Something that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the right moment to make itself known.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Spirit's name lit up the screen. He almost let it go to voicemail, but something told him to answer.

“What's good?” he mumbled, voice thick with approaching sleep.

“I wanted to let you know Sienna's done,” Spirit said, cutting straight to it. “I told Darren, that he can shove this show up his ass if I even think she’s in your way or in his ear. We done repeating ourselves. I also made it clear that when you say no changes that’s what you mean. No more going back and forth.”

Giovanni sat up slightly. “Good, because I was about to get violent. I was beginning to feel like I was being punked.”

“For real. Darren's problem and nightmare are her only titles now.” The satisfaction in Spirit's voice was unmistakable. A weight lifted from his shoulders. One less battle to fight.

“Good looking out, sis.”

“No problem, I don’t know what you saw in her? She has the personality of wet funky mop. Stank and useless.”

“Yoo, you may have taken it too far.”

“Never. But did your girl make it over?” Spirit asked, switching gears.

“Yeah, she did. Thanks for hitting her up.”

“That's what I'm here for. Someone's gotta look out for you hard-headed ass.” He could hear her smile through the phone. “I like her, Gio. Don't mess this up.”

“Working on it,” he said, glancing at Paige beside him.

They said their goodbyes and he ended the call.

A small smile played on his lips as he settled back down and felt Paige scoot closer against him.

For tonight, it was enough to know that when the world got too loud, she was the quiet he could come home to.