Giselle smiled at Aaron’s guess. “She had nowhere to go when she came here from her country. She’s clearly not white, too dark for the Italians and Greeks and wasn’t able to find any of her own people.” She sent Aaron a stern look. “She’s safe here in Harlem. She’s lived here since the day my grandmother found her eating from the garbage. She lives with my grandmother-my father’s mother. My mother is a teacher, but during the summer she works here at Mr. Morton’s diner. She taught Rena the language. All that fiery speech, that’s my mother’s doing.”
Aaron responded with a playful eyeroll. “I’ll have to thank her for that.”
Giselle laughed. “Rena’s always been like a sister to me. A protective big sister.”
“A terrifying big sister,” Aaron joined in when Giselle laughed. “No one else knows?” he asked after a while.
Giselle blew out an unsteady breath. “No one lower than 110th street.”
Aaron opened his mouth to ask one of the million questions racing through his mind. Giselle was speaking before he could utter a syllable.
“Understand this, Aaron. I’m black,” she shrugged, “as black as anyone in this country can claim to be. My mother is black, so is my father. My sister, my brother...there’s no question of their heritage when you see them.
My grandmother-my mother’s mother-her mother was mixed and her mother-my great, great grandmother was white. She married my great, great grandfather-a black man. He was a merchant fisherman. They married at a time when such a thing was more of a death sentence than it is now, I suppose.” There was a look of playful bewilderment to her features then as she looked down at the table and fidgeted with the scalloped edges of her navy sleeves.
“I think my mother would’ve kept this part of her family’s history a secret, but when she had me I- I’m the youngest and...my father had questions, you see? My birth was almost the end of their marriage. He didn’t know whether to hate her for betraying him or to hate himself for not protecting her from some faceless white man.”
“My brother loves you,” Aaron said.
“I love him,” Giselle confessed.
Aaron forced himself to nod, to move past the blow her admission dealt him.
“I’m as protective of my family as they are of me,” she reached across the table and squeezed Aaron’s wrist. “Please keep my secret. Promise me-”
“Hey?” He turned the tables, squeezing her wrist as she had his. “I would never betray that, do you hear me?”
Relieved, she could only nod.
Aaron smiled softly. “I’m not just saying that because I’m afraid of what Rena might do to me, either.”
Laughter followed and then Giselle was sitting back in her chair to observe him. “Rena said they call you the noble one.”
“Noble?” Aaron chuckled over the word. “You’re serious? Do we all have labels?”
“I think so. Don’t you know the stir you and your brothers make?”
Aaron settled back in his chair then as well and sighed. “Apparently, I don’t.”
“To hear Rena talk, it sounds like most of the women working for Tesano are there for the paycheck second. Glimpsing Liam Tesano and his sons comes in first. I think most men would kill to be that sought after by women.”
“Gabe loves you very much,” Aaron smiled wistfully as he surveyed the still bustling cafe. “He’s had tons of girls and I’ve never seen him as dazed by any one of them as he’s been by you. Tell him the truth of who you are before he falls any deeper.”
“Any deeper.”
“He’ll ask you to marry him before the year is out.”
Giselle burst into laughter, glanced over her shoulder to see who had overheard. “That’s insane.”
“Not at all.”
Giselle focused on Aaron a while longer and then inclined her head. “What aren’t you saying?”
“My brother is a good guy, Giselle, but I don’t think he’d be half as understanding as your dad was if his kid was other than what he expected it to be.”
Beyond the sounds of dinner, there was silence.
“I didn’t mean to upset you-”
“No Aaron, I-I needed to hear this,” she leaned in to squeeze his hands between hers. “Thank you Aaron. For your honesty-thank you.”
Aaron kissed the back of her hand in return.
“I’m scared,” she confessed.
“No reason for it,” he assured her. Inside, he cringed. She had appreciated his honesty, but he hadn’t been honest enough to tell her that she had every reason to be afraid.
~53~
A cousin of Pitch’s on his mother’s side, had opened a club in the city the previous year. The place quickly carved out a stellar reputation on the entertainment circuit and an impressive amount of clientele who flocked there from as far away as Connecticut.
Pitch was especially pleased to be there that night. Candace was on his arm, looking radiant and happy. Happy to be with him. Pitch believed he could have taken her to a rooftop clambake and she would have been just as thrilled. He’d met few girls who were as easy going and unpretentious as she was. Given his last name, most of his prior dates expected limos and champagne.
Sadly, limos and champagne weren’t his style nor was trading on his last name- a name that had brought him nothing but grief. Nothing but grief until he’d bumped into Candace Strong along a deserted Tesano corridor. That single incident would make him forever grateful for his last name.
Having Candace along wasn’t the only great thing about the night. Roman and Imani were also joining them. Pitch couldn’t wait to introduce his brother and cousin to each other. As club owner, it would take Jason Claymore a while to make it out to greet Pitch. Still, it hadn’t stopped the man from securing a lavish corner booth on the club’s main floor for Pitch and his guests.
The club was officially named J.C.’s. The place was a mix of attitude and elegance. One could arrive dressed for a night of ballroom twirling or for high energy dancing to the latest billboard hits and not feel out of place. There were plans to dedicate half the 2nd level to a restaurant but, for the time being, the club was a single floor dwelling.
