Tacie Graves - Compromising Positions

She punched the off button and tossed the phone on the couch. She scrubbed her hands through her hair, pulling the curls through her fingers and groaned in frustration.

“Dear God, you’d think that man had never opened a new exhibit before. He’s going absolutely mad!” She flopped down on the couch next to the phone. “I’ve never seen him like this.” She shook her head a little. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

Giovanni plopped down on the sofa next to her and patted her leg.

“He‘s probably just excited,” he said, leaning back and stretching his long legs out to rest on the coffee table. “It isn’t every day that a private collection of this size goes public.”

Mina nodded. It was true. This was going to be a coup for the Oppen. It would very likely make national news.

It was sad she wasn’t excited about it anymore.

“Well, Cinzia and the Direttore were both very helpful. They assure me that the last of the collezione was couriered to the airport this morning. So, it’s finished. You have nothing else to keep you here.”

Bleakness crept over the world and Mina felt her shoulders sag. She didn’t know what she expected-she’d seen Marco kissing that woman-but some tiny part of her had held out hope that he would come after her, would tell her it was all a terrible misunderstanding, and that he’d never betray her like that… not for a beautiful woman, nor for his mother.

“Did Marco say that?” Her mouth felt like it was full of sand. She didn’t want to hear the answer, but she couldn’t stop the question.

Giovanni stopped patting.

“Actually, he wasn’t there.” His voice was carefully neutral, and he watched Mina’s reaction closely. “Cinzia handled everything.”

Mina’s eyes flew wide. He wasn’t there? Why wouldn’t he be there? Her mind flew through possibilities-he’d forgotten the final arrangements, he’d been called away on business, he’d been abducted by aliens-but she couldn’t help but come back to the obvious answer: he didn’t want to see her.

A shudder ran through her like a shock wave. He wasn’t even there . It didn’t seem possible. She’d been prepared for persuasion, or temper. She’d role played through conversation after conversation where she explained that they had to go back to being just business associates. They were too different. She couldn’t be with a man who put so little value on their relationship.

She just never believed he put that little a value on it.

He knew she had to finalize the last of the shipments. Knew the insurance forms had to be filed, and the security people had to be briefed. He knew…

“Cinzia told me she hadn’t seen him since the party. He left a message with her to handle everything-that he’d be out of touch for a few days-and that was the last she heard from him.”

Mina’s heart slammed back to life in her chest. Maybe…

“Have you heard from him?” She held her breath, not sure what she wanted him to say.

Giovanni let out a strangled laugh. “You mean after he took a swing at me in front of Mamma and lo sindaco ?” He shook his head and rubbed his jaw in painful memory. “No, Mina. I told him to stay away, and he has.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his. “If you’re going to address this, I think you’re going to have to make the first move.”

Mina squeezed his hand but didn’t speak.

Make the first move , she thought. You mean put myself back in the line of fire?Yeah, because that makes so much sense.

She tuned back into what Giovanni was saying.

“It isn’t like him, this silence. Marco has never been one to sit back and let someone else dictate the action.” He laughed. “He’s always been more likely to block all the exits and flank his opposition so they have no choice but to do what he wants them to.”

Like going to a museum and offering someone the opportunity of a lifetime-just to convince them to give him a chance. Mina bit her lip. Hard.

“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.