Both of Me (Cross My Heart Duet Book 1) Read online

  Dawn playfully sticks her tongue out at her friend. I can’t help but notice that Kelsey is a natural stunner. Makeup free with a smattering of freckles across her nose. Her long hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and she is dressed in yoga pants and a tight tee.

  I wonder if every girl in LA really is blonde and beautiful. It’s very different from home. New York is a melting pot of ethnicity and culture, and everyone always seems to be made up to the max and in a hurry to be somewhere.

  “I have some snacks here because we assumed you would be peckish after that long flight. We figured we would just call out for dinner later tonight after you had time to get settled in.”

  We hear Daniel enter the kitchen as I thank them for the warm welcome.

  “No problem. We are happy to have someone new in here. Tonya was … well, she was …”

  “She was the devil,” Daniel finishes Kelsey’s thought from the doorway.

  Dawn walks over to him for a quick kiss and then admits, “Yeah, she was. I don’t want you to think we are difficult to live with or anything. She was just in a bad mood most of the time and a bit on the lazy side. I mean, really, you are a twenty-three-year-old adult; wash your own dishes and pick your own clothes up off of the bathroom floor every once in a while.” She rolls her eyes. “When she started hitting on Kelsey’s boyfriend right in front of us one night, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Girl Code. You never, ever break Girl Code. She had to go.”

  I get it. I have four brothers. Tidy is not a word in their vocabulary, and it drove me and my mother nuts. And I, too, have felt the sharp sting of a friend’s betrayal.

  “You guys do not have to worry about me. I like a clean and neat environment, too, and I have zero time or desire to hit on anyone at all. I am focusing on me right now. Only me.”

  A look of relief passes between my new roomies, and I know—I just know—I am home.

  Past

  “Come on, Gabby. It is your birthday. Your sweet sixteenth birthday that both your parents and your bonehead brothers forgot. I am not going to let you sit here all night, crying into your pillow. Get up and get dressed. It’s party time.”

  My best friend, Adriana, is standing above me as I lie on my bed, struggling to stop the tears.

  Sixteen is supposed to be a big deal, right? I have been excited for weeks. When I woke up this morning, I fully expected to walk downstairs and find my mother making birthday pancakes and singing “Happy Birthday” to me with her angelic voice, like she had done every single year before, but there was no one in the kitchen, except my brother, Nicco, eating a bowl of cereal while he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. He didn’t even look up from his phone when I walked in. In fact, he didn’t acknowledge me at all, except to grunt when I said good morning.

  I asked him where Mamma was, and he said she had gone into the city with Papa on some kind of family business. I was disappointed but assumed, whatever the business was, it must have been urgent for her to miss seeing me off this morning. Perhaps it wasn’t business at all. Maybe my parents were out, making arrangements for us to celebrate later or buying my gift.

  I spent the rest of my day at school, eagerly anticipating coming home to whatever my family had planned for my milestone. However, when I walked in the door, all I could hear was my parents arguing in Papa’s study. I walked to the door, knocked softly, and peeked in. When Papa spotted me there, he immediately dismissed me and told me to go to my room and do my homework or something until dinner because the adults were having a grown-up conversation.

  Funny how most of the grown-up conversations that happened in our house involved an awful lot of yelling.

  Mamma, who had been trying to avoid eye contact with me, was standing behind him with tears streaming down her face. She finally looked up and gave me an apologetic look as I left, crestfallen. I could tell they were both extremely upset about something, but couldn’t they have at least said happy birthday?

  I checked my brothers’ bedrooms as I made my way to mine, and they were all empty. Where was everyone?

  Even though they were adults now, my brothers still lived here in the family home. Not that they ever actually slept here much anymore.

  Tony, my oldest brother, is usually at his girlfriend’s house. Stavros is usually wherever Tony is. Lorenzo is always crashing at a friend’s house in the city after going out. And Nicco is either home or at his best friend, Cross’s, loft, which is above the detached four-car garage on his father’s property about half a mile from us.

  Cross. My Cross. My Cross, who has been avoiding any contact with me for months now after an embarrassing encounter where he walked into the bathroom as I was coming out of the shower. I was using Nicco’s bathroom because Mamma was having mine remodeled. I yelped when I walked out to find him walking in. He just stood there like a deer caught in headlights. It was mortifying.

  I have been in love with Cross Scutari since I was four years old and his family moved in a few houses down from us. He and Nicco became fast friends, and he has always treated me like I am his little sister, too. However, the way he looked at me that day was anything but brotherly. At least, that’s the way I recall it in my mind.

  “You are right. I am not going to spend all night crying because of those selfish jerks. What do you have in mind?” I ask.

  Adriana gets a mischievous look in her eye and replies with a sly smile, “I lifted a couple of bottles of vodka from my parents’ bar, and I called a few new friends to meet us down at the hot springs. We are going to let loose and party our asses off to celebrate your birthday.”

  I am sure this is a very bad idea, but I am so angry with my family that I do not care.

  Not one of my brothers showed up to dinner. Mamma and I ate in the kitchen, and Papa ate in his study. Apparently, he was very busy, and whatever had him busy had Mamma upset. She barely spoke a word while we ate takeout alone. Nonna and Nonno were suspiciously absent as well. They have their own little cottage in the back of our house, but they usually come up to the main house for breakfast and dinner. I haven’t seen either one of them once today. Weird.

  Mamma just stared at her plate of orange duck and moved the food around, not really eating. She didn’t mention my birthday.

  It is now nine p.m., and I only have three hours left of the day that I have looked forward to since … well, since forever.

  I am hurt and angry. So, I get up and get ready for a fun night with a bunch of strangers and my bestie, who is apparently the only person who loves me enough to remember my big day. Screw them all. It is time to get drunk and forget them, too.

  I have never had vodka before. Actually, other than a glass of champagne to ring in the New Year with my family, I have never had any alcohol before. It isn’t pleasant. It tastes vile and burns all the way down. Why does everyone like this stuff?

  Adriana keeps refilling our cups and adding enough lemonade to make it tolerable. We just keep forcing it down until we have enough in our system that we do not care how it tastes anymore.

  The friends she invited are a few boys who attend the community college across town. I don’t know any of them, but her older brother was in a study group with the one named Jamey. I can tell she likes him. I don’t blame her. He is hot. He is three years older than us, and I assume his friends are about the same.

  Adi has thought of everything tonight. She ordered pizzas and even has a cake that she put six candles on for me to blow out. It is store-bought and not the usual homemade German chocolate cake my nonna makes for me every year, but it is a cake, and she did the best she could.

  We have music playing from Adi’s iPhone and our drinks, and I am enjoying myself quite a bit, dancing around and singing along.

  One of the boys, Dante, sits down beside me as I sit on the edge of the springs and place my feet in. He is handsome. He has black hair to match his black eyes. He is a lot bigger than the boys I am used to seeing in class. It looks like he spends a lot of time in the gy
m or maybe he plays football for his school. I think they were talking about football earlier. Weren’t they? The night is getting kind of fuzzy. He sits so close to me; I can smell his cologne. I move over a little to give him some space, but he just moves with me.

  “Where are you going?” he asks.

  “Just thought I’d give you some more room.”

  He leans in and whispers against my ear, “Who said I wanted any more room?”

  Goose bumps trickle down my spine, and in my compromised state, I cannot decipher whether they are from thrill or fear. He moves back and gives me an assessing look. Maybe he isn’t sure either.

  All of a sudden, he jumps to his feet and extends his hand to me as he suggests we all get into the hot springs for a swim.

  “Um, it’s November, and we didn’t bring a bathing suit or towels or anything,” I manage to get out as I stumble to my feet.

  The hot springs is one of my favorite places. It is a natural spring out in the woods, about a quarter of a mile from the back of our family’s property. It feeds into the lake further back, and it is always warm, January or July. It is like our own personal rock hot tub, hidden by the cover of the forest. When I was little, I thought it was a magical place.

  I can still remember the day Nicco, Cross, and I found it.

  They had been riding their bikes, and I was on mine, doing my best to keep up with them. Nicco was trying to ditch me. He was always trying to ditch me. I was a late-in-life “oops” baby, and I didn’t think his thirteen-year-old self appreciated having to always entertain a five-year-old, especially a five-year-old girl. We were flying through the woods, and Nicco hit the bank. He flipped off his bike and went headfirst right into the springs. I screamed as I slammed on my brakes and skidded sideways to avoid going in after him. Cross jumped off his bike and came running to me.

  “Hey, Gabby. Are you okay, Tesoro?” he asked as he lifted my bike off me.

  “I think I hurt my leg,” I cried.

  He gently lifted my leg to inspect the damage. My right knee was busted open and bleeding.

  “Yep, I think you did. It doesn’t look too bad, but I think we’d better leave our bikes here, and Nicco and I will take turns, carrying you home.”

  I didn’t like that idea at all. I was too big to be carried home like a sissy.

  “See, this is why you shouldn’t be tagging along with us in the first place. Boy play is too rough for little girls,” Nicco added as he climbed his way out of the hole and shook the water from his hair.

  Sure, riding bikes through the woods and falling into watering holes were very dangerous stuff.

  “Man, Cross, this place is cool. That water is deep, and it’s warm and bubbly. We should come back and swim once we get the baby home.”

  I jumped up and shouted, “I am not a baby.”

  Cross looked down into my angry face and said, “You are our baby, Gabby.”

  I was sure my heart broke for the very first time when he said those words to me.

  I walked myself home that day. Refusing to let either one of them carry me a single step. Busted-up knee and a bruised forehead be damned. I wasn’t about to let Cross see me act like a baby. I was a big girl. Big girls walked home without being carried and without crying.

  Gah, Nicco was the worst brother ever.

  I shake my foggy mind from the memory. “What did you say?” I ask Dante.

  “I said, the water is warm, and we don’t really need bathing suits. We can get in our birthday suits, since it is your birthday.” There is a glint of excitement behind his eyes as he delivers his dare.

  Is he crazy? We met a little over two hours ago. No way am I taking my clothes off and getting in the water without a suit in front of him or his friends.

  I look to Adriana for backup. She is a few feet away in Jamey’s lap, and he is kissing the back of her neck. She seems to be enjoying it very much. Adriana likes to make out with boys. Lots of boys. Well, maybe not lots, but she has had a couple of boyfriends, and she has let them round a few bases.

  I have never been kissed. This is a fact that I am starting to get a little self-conscious about.

  It isn’t like I am ugly. I might not be a knockout like Adriana, but I know I am at least pretty. Genetics. All four of my brothers are gorgeous. A fact that every girl in my school makes very clear to me. They are always trying to befriend me in the hopes of finding themselves in the company of one or more of the Mastreoni boys. It is so annoying. Their bedrooms have had revolving doors since they hit puberty, which my parents pretend not to notice. What a double standard. I brought Philip Barns home from school to study for our Latin exam one afternoon, and with the way my brothers acted, you would have thought we’d started ripping each other’s clothes off as we came in the door. I was so embarrassed, and needless to say, Philip never offered to help me study again. No boy ever offered to help me study again. Nor did they ask me out on any dates. I wasn’t sure anymore if they avoided me because of my brothers or because they just were not into me.

  “Hey, guys, you want to go skinny-dipping or what?” Dante asks before I get a word out.

  “Yes!” Adi jumps off Jamey’s lap and starts to undress.

  All three of our guests follow her, and I stand there, a little dizzy, watching the show as they jump in.

  “Come on, Gabby; don’t be so uptight. Just keep your underwear on if you are that nervous and get your ass in the water. Be spontaneous for once. It’s fun. We are having fun. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” She tries her best to convince me.

  They are swimming and splashing around, and it does look fun. I mean, what could it hurt to let loose and do something wild for once? My head is swimming, and try as I might, I cannot think clearly enough to come up with a good reason not to jump in with Adi and our new friends.

  So, I make my decision and lift my dress above my head.

  Present

  My first two weeks as a California girl have been a whirlwind. Dawn and Kelsey have taken me shopping, helped personalize my room, introduced me around to their large, extended friend group, dragged me out for cocktails and dancing, and taken me to eat amazing food all over the city, and we have spent several lazy days on the beach. Needless to say, they took their responsibility of introducing me to my new home very seriously. It’s been exhausting and wonderful.

  I didn’t have a lot of close friends back home. Only one really. My very best friend and partner in crime, Adriana. She is one of my dad’s business partner’s daughters I met when we were ten years old, and we were inseparable. She helped me get into and out of a lot of trouble through the years. Until now, that is. There is no way out of my latest trouble.

  Even though she is one of the people I am most angry with, leaving her behind is one of the hardest parts of leaving for good. I miss her every day. No more so than now as I stare at the doors of California State University.

  Today is the day that I start working toward my future goals. I have always dreamed of having my own restaurant. When I was a little girl, I would be under my mamma’s and my nonna’s feet as they cooked these delicious meals for our large, loud famiglia. I am the baby of five. I have four older brothers, and my father’s parents moved to America from Italy decades ago to live with us. So, dinnertime was always an event in our home. When I was younger, I was completely enthralled with the whole process—from growing the vegetables and spices in the garden to making pasta by hand, creating homemade marinades and sauces and baking cakes and cookies from scratch.

  So, I find myself here, taking boring business classes because knowing how to cook is the easy and fun part of having your own restaurant. Time for me to settle in and do the work to learn the hard parts of owning your own business.

  Somehow, I managed to complete enough classes the year before last and earned a few hard-fought online credits over the last ten months to enter the current year as a junior. I will buckle down and get this degree. No distractions. I can’t allow myself to get off track ever
again.

  The first day is a success. Turns out, Dawn is in two of my classes, and Kelsey and I have the same lab hours. It is great to have familiar faces in class. All of my professors seem amicable. I took a full course load, trying to play a little catch-up. It will be a tough but hopefully productive year.

  Now, onto the job search. I secured a position as a nanny for a four-month-old baby boy before I arrived. I have communicated with his parents and made all the arrangements via phone and FaceTime. Although I look forward to every moment with that little guy, that job will not pay the bills. So, I have a meeting at the local country club this evening. They are in need of a tennis instructor, and being as I taught youth tennis at our club back in New York, I was able to get Una to have my old boss call in a recommendation for me under my new name as a favor to her.

  I really hope I get this job. I am in desperate need of it. Everything else is falling into place so well. Landing this would be the icing on the cake.

  “Hello, Ms. …” Mr. Cloniger, the head of HR for the club, extends his hand as I enter his office.

  “Miss Masters. Brie Masters, but please call me Brie,” I fill in for him as I take his hand.

  He is a plump older gentleman with a graying comb-over and kind eyes.

  “Yes, Brie, it is nice to meet you. Stan Morgan over at New York Golf and Country had a lot of great things to say about you.”

  We sit across from each other at his massive desk, and I wipe the sweat from my palms onto my slacks. I don’t know why I am so nervous. I think because a lot is riding on this job. I only have enough money to last through the next two semesters. I am not comfortable with living so close to the edge. When I was growing up, money was not something I worried about. My father did quite well in his business, and he lavished our family with all the comforts one could want or need. Choosing to move out here on my own without any help from Papa was something I had to do, as scary as it was. I do not want his money or his business tainting my new life.