CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE ELEVATOR MOVED so slowly.
And stopped at every floor.
Gia clasped her hands as she gazed at the floor numbers as they went by. Two more to go. Two more floors until she reached her biological father’s office. Two more floors until she was able to right a wrong. She wondered what her parents would think of what she was about to do.
She halted her thoughts. She wasn’t going to think about them. She wasn’t going to think about the way they’d kept this vital information from her for her entire life.
She’d refused to think very much about her parents since she’d learned the truth about her conception. It was better that way. She didn’t want to hate them. They had been good parents to her—more like great parents. Or at least she’d thought they’d been. But do great parents keep a secret of this magnitude from their child?
The elevator dinged as it stopped one floor from her destination. They were almost there. Excitement bubbled up inside her. What was she going to say to this man?
She knew this was going to be a shock to her biological father. She shouldn’t expect much at first, but she was certain he would quickly come around.
She’d used the time on Ric’s private jet to plan out her words. She rehearsed them over and over in her head. She’d perfected them. This was going to work out just fine.
As the elevator moved to her final destination, she chanced a glance at Ric. His stance was rigid, and the muscle in his cheek jumped. He didn’t come straight out and say it, but he thought this meeting was a mistake. He thought it was going to go terribly wrong. And she understood where he was coming from. He hadn’t had the easiest childhood, and her heart went out to him. But this was different—they were different. It would work out. He’d see.
Because she couldn’t afford to consider the alternative. If she let herself consider how wrong this meeting could go, she’d back out. She
’d head back to Tuscany and always wonder what might have been. And when she stared in the mirror, she’d always wonder what aspects of herself had been inherited from her biological father.
The elevator stopped one last time, and then the doors swept open. They stepped out on what looked like marble floors. A grand desk with a beautiful receptionist greeted them. Behind the woman, in big bold letters was her biological father’s surname. Very impressive. He appeared to do very well for himself.
Gia stepped up to the desk. “Hi. Gia Bartolini to see Mr. Gallo.”
The woman glanced down at the computer monitor. “Ah, yes. There you are. It’ll be just a moment.” She then spoke softly into her headset before returning her attention to Gia. “Mr. Gallo will be just a few minutes. Please have a seat.”
“Thank you.” Gia turned to find no expense had been spared in the waiting area. She took a seat in one of the burgundy leather chairs.
Ric sat beside her. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“If that’s your attempt at a joke, it’s not funny.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he put his arm over her shoulders and then leaned in close. “You’ve got this. If he doesn’t love you from the start, he’s a very foolish man.”
Now this was more like it. She turned to him, finding he was closer than she’d anticipated. “Thank you.” She smiled. “Glad to see you’re coming around.”
Before he could say more, the receptionist interrupted. “You can go back now. It’s the last door on the left.”
Suddenly her insides melted into a ball of nerves. When she stood, her knees felt weak. She’d been doing so well. Why now? She had to get it together.
Ric stood and looked back at her as though wondering why she hadn’t sprung out of the chair and raced down the hallway. She would, if her legs would cooperate.
His gaze met hers. “You’ve got this.”
In his gaze she found strength. She drew on it, calming her rising nerves. She could do this. He presented his arm to her, she was tempted to hold on to him, but she resisted.
“I need to do this on my own.” And then she walked ahead of him.
She wasn’t sure if Ric was behind her as the carpeting was thick and muffled their footsteps. She thought of glancing back but decided it was best just to focus on her forward momentum, because no matter what she told herself, she was still nervous.
When she reached the closed wooden doors with Gallo’s name on it, she paused. She drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled it. Then she did it again. This was as calm as she was going to get. She raised her arm, folded her fingers and rapped on the door.
“Come in,” said a deep male voice.
She realized in that moment it was the very first time she’d heard her biological father speak.