Page 89 of Rookie Move
“Hey, lady,” Georgia said, meeting it with her own fist. “How are you? Got any new playlists for me? Your slacker boyfriend hasn’t sent me anything for a while.”
“You two have met?”
Georgia finally spared him a glance. “Yeah. We had dinner in Manhattan last summer.” Her eyes asked,Where were you?
Good question. Everything would have been easier if he hadn’t let six fucking years get between them.Note to self. You aren’t half as smooth as you think you are.
Georgia handed DJ his beer. He patted the empty seat beside him. “C’mere. I always wantedtwogirlfriends.”
“DJ,” Georgia chided him. “That’s not nice to Lianne.”
“You hold him, I’ll hit him,” Lianne suggested.
“Deal.”
“Don’t make me spill my beer,” DJ said, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Then he put one arm around each of the beautiful women on either side of him.
“Who’s playing?” Georgia asked.
“Kentucky. They’re undefeated heading into the play-offs.”
“Yawn,” Lianne said, and Georgia laughed.
Since Georgia looked relaxed for the first time in an hour, Leo turned around and went back into the kitchen. His mother and Violet were finishing up the salad at the kitchen table. “Get over here,” Vi snapped when she saw him. “We need answers.”
He fetched a beer for himself from the refrigerator and joined them at the table. He sat down and looked into their gleaming eyes. “What if we didn’t make a big deal about it?”
Vi rolled her eyes. “Where’s the fun in that? And we love Georgia. It was never the same around here after you two broke up.”
Leo shrugged, feeling self-conscious. Until today, it hadn’t occurred to him that his heartache had rippled through his family, too. “Georgia and I have been spending some time together. It’s not a big deal.”
“I think it is,” his mother said softly. “I hope it works out. But if it doesn’t, at least you tried.”
Ouch. His mom was pretty astute. Maybe too astute. “Where’s Dad?” he asked just to change the subject.
“DAD!” Vi yelled. “LEO’S HERE!”
There were footsteps overhead which eventually clomped down the stairs. “Hey,” his dad said, cuffing him on the shoulder. “Does this mean we can eat DJ’s lasagna now?”
“Guess what?” Vi crowed. “Georgia came to dinner.”
His father frowned. “There’s plenty. Can we eat it now?”
At least one person wasn’t going to put Georgia in the spotlight. Thank God for his clueless dad.
“Do you peopledeliberatelymiss the point?” Violet asked, sliding out of her chair. “Get the silverware, Leo. I’ll get the plates.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Georgia struggled through the meal, laboring hard to convey good cheer. But her smile felt pasted on. There were ghosts all around her. Sitting in the Trevi family dining room was like watching a 3-D movie of her younger life. Just stepping into their familiar kitchen gave her an ache, and Marion Trevi’s tight hug had seared her.
Even so, DJ’s excellent lasagna and Vi’s salad went down easily. Because it was mealtime and her metabolism didn’t take a day off just because she was stressed out.
But sitting in this cheery dining room with its striped cotton napkins and happy faces made the ache worse. She’d once felt like an adopted member of this family. It was something she’d needed back then, and she hadn’t even known it.
Her dad was a good man and a good father, but their home had always been quiet. Even before her mother had died, Georgia had wished for a baby brother or sister to liven things up. But their luck had once run only in the other direction. When she thought back to the misty days of her childhood, it was amazing how high-functioning her father had really been in the face of tragedy. Even right after Mom passed, he’d kept up the Christmas traditions. He’d made it to all her school events and taken her onvacation. The loss must have been staggering, but he did it for her.
Even then she’d known not to complain. But her heart had always yearned for more family. And when she and Leo became an item in their high school days, she became a fixture at the Trevi table. She was sitting, in fact, in the very same seat that she’d had in the past—the one nearest the napkin holder shaped like a sailboat. Whenever there’d been a spill, she’d been the one to leap into action. There were frequent spills, because when the Trevi siblings argued they used their hands.
