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Georgia’s heart sped up a little and she was surprised by her instinct to defend Dante; particularly when Marcia had a really good point. He hadn’t always been easy to spend time with, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “Easy can be overrated,” she pointed out.
“You’re braver than I.”
Georgia took a sip of her water, wishing that someone else in the family was near enough to speak to.
Marcia took another drag on her cigarette. “How did you two meet, anyway?”
Georgia hesitated. For some reason, she didn’t feel like sharing too much with this woman. “Oh, it was just one of those things. Pretty random, actually.”
“But you’re not a couple?”
Georgia’s stomach dropped to her feet. She shook her head, plastering a smile to her face that didn’t reach her eyes. “No. Just…friends.”
Marcia snorted. “I’m sorry,” she raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s just hard to imagine anyone choosing to be friends with that man.”
“You don’t like him?” Georgia asked, a hint of curiosity despite her defensiveness and surprising rush of loyalty.
Marcia stubbed out her cigarette. “Not particularly.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“I suppose with the baby, you didn’t have a choice.”
Georgia tilted her head to the side. “We always have a choice,” she contradicted. “I’m more interested in what happened with you and Dante and why you’d choose to speak negatively about him to me, of all people?”
“You’re not dating. Why should you care?”
“He’s the father of my child, and he’s a decent person to boot. Not to mention the fact this is his family’s home.”
“You’re saying I’m not welcome here?”
“Definitely not. That wouldn’t be my place. I’m just interested.”
“You wouldn’t understand. Someone like you couldn’t.” Marcia smiled tartly as she stood. “Have a good night, cara.”
Georgia’s knees felt weak and she pressed a hand to her belly, seeking reassurance and strength. It was nice to be able to sit on her own a while, just listening to the sound of the family singing around Gianni’s piano. It was nice to be a part of a family again, she realized, her heart twisting. There was no substitute for her own parents, but the love in the Santoro home was palpable.
Except for Marcia.
Georgia would love to know what her story was.
She gathered Marcia and Raf had been together a while. Marcia certainly seemed comfortable and accepted. But how could that be the case when she was so combative with Dante? Or was it only behind his back that she would speak like that?
Was she sounding Georgia out?
She pursed her lips, lost in thought. And what did it matter? Georgia had been around bitchy women before. She didn’t choose to spend her time that way but she was perfectly capable of standing up for herself, and letting another woman’s cattiness run off her back.
As the next song began, she decided to go in search of Dante. She was exhausted, emotionally and physically; she wanted to leave.
The property though was large. She checked the terrace and gardens first, before moving inside, looking in the kitchen, the lounge room, a study, and feeling like a bit of an intruder, moved upstairs into the private family area.
She knocked on doors, without any luck. But finally, she reached one and in reply to her knock, heard his voice.
“Si?”
She expelled a shaky breath. Why was she nervous?
“Hi,” she said, as she pushed the door inwards, then stopped walking, because Dante’s expression was thunderous. In his hand, he held a picture, and even from where she stood, she could see it was a family portrait. Not of him and the Santoros, but of Dante, Bianca and Livvie.
