Page 20 of And Everything In Between

A call from across the yard caught their attention.

“Giovanni! That Detroit client called again!” A woman with short-cropped hair and coveralls waved from the door of the office building.

“Tell him I’ll hit him back Monday, Trina!” he called back, then turned to Paige.

“Let me show you my lounge and office.”

He guided her toward the third building, hand firm at her lower back. Inside, the industrial shell gave way to leather couches, a pool table, a gleaming bar, and one full wall covered in photos. Cars, milestones, and memories all tracked Giovanni’s rise, moment by moment.

She let out a quiet “Damn,” taking in the space one detail at a time before placing her crossbody on the table. Giovanni did the same, placing his gun, phone, and wallet next to her stuff.She caught it. It was something about the weight of a gun hitting a hard surface that made her kitty purr.

“Grab whatever you want to drink,” he said, nodding toward a full-sized fridge in the corner. “Got everything from water to whiskey.”

Paige headed for the fridge, pulling out two waters. When she returned, she settled onto the leather couch beside him, closer than necessary but not quite touching. She handed him one of the waters.

“So, this is where you bring all your conquests?” She was teasing but also wanting to know in case she changed her mind.

Giovanni shook his head, taking a long drink. “Most people don’t make it past the front lot to be honest. I don’t play about my spaces or the people I let enter them.”

“So why me?”

He studied her, taking his time. “You’re different. You got layers. A different vibe. And why not you?”

“That your way of saying complicated?” She raised an eyebrow, licking the rim of her water bottle.

“That’s my way of saying you're worth the investment.” His eyes were stuck on her mouth like he already knew the return would be crazy. “Life makes us all complicated. Changes our roles, our dreams, what we need. I’m here for all of that.”

“Why?” she blurted before she could catch it. He looked at her and sat back.

“Because I’m there too.”

“So smooth, saying all the right things. Could you be a dream?”

“Never,” Giovanni said, eyes still locked on her. “You don’t look like a woman who believes in dreams. And that’s good because I’m not here to sell you any.”

The silence wrapped around them, heavier now than before. Paige looked away first, her gaze drifting toward the wallof photos. She stood and headed to look closer. A soft out. A brief reprieve.

There was Giovanni as a teenager, grinning wide beside a line of old cars. Another photo showed him with an older man who shared his eyes, both of them grease-covered and proud.

“That’s my pops,” he said, stepping up beside her. His voice softened. His fingers brushed her bang from her face. The simple gesture felt more intimate than it should have. “He’s the reason we’re here.”

She swallowed thickly, her thumb brushing the inside of her opposite palm, grounding herself. Somewhere, deep in her chest, she felt a door creaking open. Slowly. Reluctantly. But open.

“I like your shop. It’s impressive,” she expressed finally, her voice evened out, despite the chaos rolling through her bones.

“I like you in it,” Giovanni said, eyes still on her.

They stood like that for a moment, the hum of music pulsing through the floorboards, outside voices drifting in like background static. Paige hated how damn comfortable she felt in his space. Hated that she didn’t want to walk away, no matter what her better judgment screamed.

A part of her still felt the urge to bolt, to protect herself. But the part that craved presence, peace, conversation, and just a little bit of being held kept her feet right next to his.

“You want a real drink, Ms. Bishop?” he asked, flashing that grin, chin tilting toward the fridge. “Or you tryna be on your best behavior tonight?”

She smirked, her lips slick and unhurried, every inch of her saying try me.

“Vanni, if I was tryna behave.” She stepped closer. “I would’ve stayed my ass at home.”

The tension between them simmered hard. One spark, and it’d burn this whole city down like a house of matches. And the night had only begun.

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