Compromising Positions

“And he’s always been almost devoutly monogamous,” Giovanni’s train of thought carried him further afield. “Mamma and Babbo had more than a few questioni di fedelta when we were growing up. It bothered him, I think. It certainly affected his relationships. Once he was involved he never strayed-and he had no patience for others who did.” He looked at her face and realized what he’d said. “Or at least that’s what I thought. But then, what do I know? I’m a physicist, not a psychologist, right?”

Mina didn’t answer and he sighed, his expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mina, truly I am. I just don’t understand any of this. Marco and I have had our differences in the past, but this?” He shook his head. “This is so far from the brother I know, that I can’t help but question it.” He looked at her intently. “Serafina hasn’t been in the picture for months-almost a year! And while Mamma and Serafina weren’t happy about it, I never got the impression that Marco regretted ending that affair.”

The fact that Marco had been involved with someone as stunning as the aforementioned Serafina just made Mina more certain that she had no place in his life. How could she compare with that?

“I saw what I saw, Gio. And it wasn’t finished-not by a long shot.” Mina scrubbed a hand over her face. “It isn’t like he couldn’t have told her to stop it, or even push her away if he wanted to.” She pushed herself up from the couch and forced herself to stand up straight. “She was clinging to him like a poison ivy vine, and he wasn’t doing anything to stop it, so I have to assume he was a willing participant.”

“That’s just it,” Giovanni said. “It’s all an assumption-a hypothesis, if you will. Doesn’t Marco deserve a chance to explain? Isn’t whatever was between you two worth fighting for?”

They were all arguments she’d had with herself: Do you want him? Is he important to you? Is he worth fighting for? And the answers were all easy enough-yes, yes, yes! The harder questions came after, though: Do you trust him? Do you love him? Do you deserve him? The answers to those questions were usually: Let me get back to you on that.

“It isn’t that easy, Gio.” Mina headed towards the kitchen. Giovanni’s apartment was almost spartan in comparison to the Genovese compound, but what it lacked in size it made up for in style. She stopped in front of an enormous lithograph-an artist’s interpretation of an atom, the solid center surrounded by particles, never stopping circling.

“That’s you, you know.” Giovanni stood behind her and pointed at the picture. “At the center you’re complex, positive, stable, maybe a little boring even-but around you is nothing but a storm of negative effects.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll never be able to connect with someone else until you let some of those negative things go. Or at least share them with someone. They’ll keep you isolated until you decay, becoming less and less until you’re unrecognizable.”

Tears had threatened to overwhelm her when he started, he was so serious and caring, but she couldn’t get over how ridiculous it all sounded and she ended up snorting in disbelief.

“This is your idea of motivation?” She rolled her eyes and grinned half-heartedly at him. “Dr. Phil does physics, the newest show to take Italy by storm.”

She turned her back on him and made it the rest of the way to the kitchen. She opened the freezer and grabbed some gelato with a disgusted face. “You’d think in a country obsessed with love and food that you all would have better break-up ice cream.” She opened a drawer searching for a spoon and the doorbell rang. She pried the lid off the carton and waved the spoon in the direction of the door.

“You’d better get that. I’m busy.”

Giovanni watched her stab the gelato and shook his head, but he knew better than to get between a woman and her comfort food.

“Are you expecting a delivery?” He called, and she made negative noises around a mouthful of strawberries. “I didn’t tell anyone I was staying here.”

When he pulled the door opened Mina half-expected it see his mother standing on the doorstep, ready to drag her baby boy away from the terrible influence of the American floozy.

It wasn’t.

“Buon Giorno, Signor Genovese. I am sorry to drop in on you like this, but my name is Ivy Fielding. I’m a friend of Mina’s. May I come in?”

Chapter Four

“What do you mean he’s in the car waiting?” Giovanni’s voice rose to a volume that Mina had never heard from him. Red edged his cheekbones, and his hands clenched and unclenched in what appeared to be an effort not to shake the woman in front of him.

Ivy wasn’t impressed. She stood ramrod straight, barely reaching Giovanni’s chin as he towered over her, and refused to let him intimidate her. Their dark heads were almost identical in color-one curly, on straight-but that was where the similarity ended.

“I convinced him it would be better if I came in first. I was afraid he would not receive a very warm welcome, and if your reaction is anything to go by, I was right.”

Ivy’s tone was perfectly even, but Mina could hear the “screw with me and I’ll rip your face off-politely” note that she reserved for the absolute lowest of her acquaintances. Like Ethan.

Giovanni opened his mouth to yell some more, but Mina held up a finger to stop him. When Ivy got like this yelling never got you anywhere.

“Ivy,” she said, digging deep to find a shred of calm to hold onto, “it isn’t that I’m not happy to see you, I am.” She leaned forward and tried to meet Ivy’s eyes through her protective sheet of hair. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Ive, really.” Her earnest tone soothed some of Ivy’s ruffled feathers, but she couldn’t stop there. “The thing is, I talked to you two days ago, and you were in Miami. And now, you’re here. With Marco.” Mina’s throat closed around his name and she had to clear it to continue. “It’s a little hard to follow.”

“And even harder to understand,” Giovanni stuck in mulishly, unwilling to be relegated to the sidelines. “I thought you were her friend!”

Ivy’s posture became even more rigid, if possible.

“How dare you! I travel halfway across the world to try to save her from making the stupidest mistake she’s ever made,” she turned to glare at Mina, “and you’ve made some doozies, let me tell you,” and then snapped back to Giovanni, “and you, you testosterone drowned asshat, have the nerve to question whether I’m her friend?” Ivy rarely lost her temper, but it had slipped its lead and was long gone. Her chest was heaving with indignation, and bright pink spots colored her cheeks under exhaustion induced dark circles. Giovanni turned to Mina and mouthed “asshat?”, but she wasn’t paying any attention to him.

“The stupidest mistake I ever made was signing on with Mr. High and Mighty in the first place.” She set her lips in a stubborn line. “If you’re here to stop that, you’re a little late.”

Ivy rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration.

“Of all the hard-headed, narrow-minded, short-sighted…” she stopped exercising her vocabulary of insults and took a deep breath.

“First, think about this: how did I get here?” When Giovanni opened his mouth to answer she shushed him. “No, I don’t mean by car or plane or boat, I mean… how did I get here?” She waved her hand to indicate the apartment.

Mina looked at her and shook her head. “I’m not sure. I’m assuming Marco told you where I was.”

Ivy gave a satisfied nod, and Mina felt like a kindergartener who’d just gotten a gold star for coloring Clifford the Big Red Dog.

“Now, since I was in Miami, how did Marco tell me this?” She raised her eyebrows in anticipation and Mina frowned at her.

“I don’t know-telephone? Skype? E-mail?”

Ivy made a show of looking disappointed. “Try again.”