𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨. Model, actress, celebrity. At the age of 22 Gianna already has everything or at least that's what everyone thinks.
But in reality, her life couldn't be more of a mess. Where there's money there's alcohol, where there's pa...
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Gianna didn't utter a word to me since we got inside the car. Which is fair after what I did, but if she thought I would let her be, without fighting back she was so mistaken. Especially after what she did. Seeing a fifty-year-old woman naked was not what I expected to see today, nor what I wanted.
Obviously, I didn't mean what I said, I would never hurt her and she should know that by now but scaring her off a little seemed like fun. Besides, I had to return the sentiment she pulled. Never let them know how far you would be willing to go. That's what my uncle taught me. I'm pretty sure he meant in the business field not while playing the petty game with a twenty-two-year-old bratty model, but tomayto tomahto am I right?
The silence gave me enough time to think about Valentina's offer and even though I hadn't talked to my sister and my father about it yet, I allowed myself to think that they would support my decision so it was settled. As soon as I left Gianna at her apartment I would call Valentina and accept the offer to move in next door to her daughter.
Why on earth would I do that knowing it's probably a mistake? That's a great question, one I don't have an answer to except that I know the Bratty princess will one hundred percent hate it and I won't have to drive fifty minutes every day whenever she says she needs me. That seems to be enough for me right now. Is that a stupid answer? Yes. Am I making the right decision based on it? Also Yes. Is that wrong? Most likely.
"Hey!" Gianna practically screams snapping me right back to reality. "You either have some serious disassociation problems or you are deaf as hell, I have been calling you for a whole minute." She explains the reason for her sudden outburst.
See, I meant it when I said I have to practice not drifting away into my little world. I'm too similar to my dad sometimes.
"My apologies, what's wrong?" I look at her through the rearview mirror to find she is already looking at me.
"I asked if you could leave me at the Asian restaurant two blocks away from my apartment, I'm starving." She says breaking the eye contact.
"The one at the corner? That place sucks, Gianna. It's a chain, not actual Asian cuisine." I grew up watching my parents cook every type of food, from Spanish to French to Korean. Meg, my mother's friend taught us that last one. So now when it comes to food, I'm picky.
"Well, Pretty Boy, I gotta eat and it's the only place nearby that doesn't only sell salads and sandwiches." Her tone is far from friendly, I try to decipher the emotion it hides but aside from obvious bitterness, I can't recognize anything else. She's not holding the grudge still, is she?
"You don't have any food at your house?" I ask, darting my eyes back on the road. The traffic is usual New York working day traffic, however after the stunt Gianna pulled on me, and the disassociations I could use a quiet ride by myself later tonight.
"Some stuff my mom made, but I don't wanna eat that today, if I did I wouldn't be asking you to drive me there now, would I?" By how disgusted she looks I can imagine exactly what type of food Valentina made her.
