“I'm hardly wasting away,” I protest, flexing my arm toward the camera. “Stunts keep me in pretty good shape.”
“Oh, my God, Brandon!” Isabella suddenly sits up straighter, nearly knocking over a glass. “Marco and I finally watched thataction movie you were in. I swear I could tell which stunts were actually you and which were the other guys.”
“Really?” I can't help but grin. My family doesn't always understand what I do, but they're genuinely proud when they see the finished product.
“The motorcycle chase through downtown,” she continues excitedly. “That was you, wasn't it?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“It looked incredible,” Nina chimes in. “Terrifying but incredible. How's everything going with work? You seem busier than ever.”
“It's good. Really good, actually. I'm booked solid through the summer.” I pause, then add with a casualness I don't quite feel, “Though I'll be honest. This body won't last forever. I'm starting to think about what comes next.”
The admission surprises me as much as it does them. I hadn't planned on being that vulnerable, but something about being around all of them right now makes me more honest than I usually am.
“That's smart,” my father says, his voice carrying that quiet wisdom that always made us kids feel heard rather than judged. “You've built something incredible, son. Whatever direction you want to take it, we're behind you.
“You know,” he continues casually, raising a fork to eat, “We've been renovating the Malibu property. If you ever want to explore options that keep you close to the film industry but maybe a little easier on the joints, there's always room for you with Grimaldi Resorts. But only if that's something you want.”
There's no pressure in his voice, just love and support wrapped in a practical offer.
“I appreciate that, Dad. Really.”
The conversation naturally shifts to lighter topics, including Isabella's new house renovation and the ongoing planning ofGiuliana's engagement party. But my father's words linger, not as pressure but as possibility.
“Exactly. Which means Brandon's officially the last holdout.” Nina grins wickedly at the camera.
I missed what they were talking about, but I can guess it likely started with my mother's desire for more grandchildren and the fact that Giuliana's the last of the sisters to get married.
“There's nothing wrong with being single,” I say, trying to jump back into the conversation.
“Of course there isn't,” my father says, his voice carrying that quiet authority. “But Brandon, son, there's also nothing wrong with wanting more than just work.”
“We just want you happy, B,” Valentina says. “Whatever that looks like.”
“Speaking of happy,” Isabella chimes in, and I can practically hear the mischief in her voice, “anyone special we should know about? It would be amazing if you finally brought someone home for us to meet.”
I lean back against my couch, suddenly grateful for the three thousand miles between us. “Not really my priority right now.”
“Come on,” Giuliana presses. “You're in the land of beautiful people. Surely, there's someone interesting.”
“Dating in LA is a lot like dating in Brooklyn as a Grimaldi,” I say, the words coming out more cynical than I intended. “You're never really sure if someone's with you for your winning personality or because they've done the math on what the family name might mean for them.”
The line goes quiet for a moment.
“Oh, honey.” My mother's voice is soft with understanding. “Not everyone you meet will be that way.”
“It's just easier to keep things casual,” I add quickly, not wanting to bring down the mood. “Less complicated.”
“Brandon,” my father says gently, “the right person won't care about any of that. They'll just care about you.”
“I know.” I want to believe that's true, but I just don't have that experience yet. Back home in New York, it was my bank account people seemed to love. Here, the money is assumed, and it's more my connections and if I can help someone catch their big break, too.
After the goodbyes and the final waves, I close my laptop and sit in the sudden quiet of my apartment. The truth is, I am happy. I love what I do, love the adrenaline, technical challenge, and camaraderie of film sets. I love the freedom to take jobs that interest me, to travel, to live without the weight of anyone else's expectations.
But lately, something's been shifting. Maybe it's watching my sisters build these rich, full lives, or maybe it's just the accumulation of years and injuries that make me wonder what comes next. My body won't be able to handle stunts forever, and then what? The family business starts to look less like a safety net and more like an inevitability.
The resistance to settling down isn't about not wanting love; it's about trusting the person. And it's just easier to keep things light, fun, uncomplicated with the type of work I do. Everyone knows where they stand, no one gets hurt, and I get to keep being the charming guy who's great for a good time but not for the long haul.
