Page 15 of Faking With The Frenemy

I wanted to warm him and tell him to prepare himself. My voice had completely disappeared, however. The only sound I could force out of my throat was a pathetic croak. I did not think Enzo could beat up Michael easily, but there were bodyguards and local toughs on the estate as well, and any number of them could get involved when a brawl broke out.

I tried to warn Michael to leave when he could, but the damn man just had to be stubborn! I squeezed my eyes tight as Enzo closed in on Michael, not wanting to witness the clash.

“Michael? What are you doing with my sister?”

I froze. Did Enzo just address him by name? I opened my eyes and saw that I had heard correctly. Enzo’s posture softened, and I saw him un-ball his fists. I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief, thankful it would not come to blows.

A new fear assaulted me, however. I remembered what Michael had said to me two days ago. He was in Italy to attend the birthday party of his best friend’s father. If he was here right now, that only meant Enzo was his best friend. My relationship with Enzo had strained over the years, and I did not know any of his friends.

I wondered what Michael had told him about me and what we had shared in Milan. I suddenly had the urge to run away. I looked from man to man and saw the unmistakable signs of familiarity. They both seemed to forget I was there at all, yet both men still looked annoyed.

“Huh?” Michael asked in confusion. “Alessia’s your sister? Well, that clears up all the confusion. I don’t understand what’s going on here, Enzo.”

“Yeah, she’s my sister,” Enzo replied, glancing at me for the first time. “Some of my aunts told me, rather excitedly, that Alessia had invited her boyfriend to the party, and I came looking to confirm what I had heard. Are you the boyfriend? How the hell do you know my sister?”

Michael made to speak, and I knew he was about to spill the beans about what had happened between us. I jumped in, forcing the words from my mouth, cutting him off.

“Actually, I met Michael in the hotel in Milan,” I said rapidly, causing both men to turn to me. “He was kind enough to save me from what was sure to be an embarrassing and painful fall. He helped me that day, and we parted ways.

“Giorgio was all over me as usual today, and when I saw Michael in the crowd, I went to him and pretended he was my partner to get Giorgio to back off. I didn’t expect Giorgio to go blabbing, though. I only just found out his name was Michael after the incident with Giorgio. There’s nothing further to it.”

I glanced at Michael out of the corner of my eye. His eyes had grown wide, and he looked at me with an expression of outright disbelief. I made a silent prayer that he would say nothing to dispute what I had just told Enzo. I was thankful when he cleared his throat and assumed a stoic demeanor.

Enzo glared at me silently, obviously not buying my story. His stare felt like a suffocating blanket, but I stood still and held his gaze. He drummed on his legs with his fingers, a habit he had picked up as a child. He looked at Michael, and Michael looked away, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Alright then,” Enzo said finally, breaking the awkward silence. He turned to me. “I do not know why you won’t give Giorgio a chance. He is a decent, responsible man who comes from a good family. It’s not like you have options lined up for miles, waiting for you.”

I swallowed the urge to tell him I would have those options had it not been for him and my father scaring off every man within a hundred-mile radius. I smiled instead. “Thanks for looking out for me, Enzo, but I would sooner jump off the tower in Pisa than marry Giorgio.”

He snorted derisively at that, shrugging his shoulders. “It means no difference to me. You will only do what pleases you, I am sure.” He turned to leave but stopped halfway. “I am pleased to inform you both that your little ruse is causing quite the excited stir among the Aunties back at the party. Looks like you will have to keep it up for the duration.”

Enzo slapped Michael on the arm, laughing as Michael covered his face. “Think you can manage that, brother? She is alive, and I wish you good luck. You will need it.” He laughed as he left, pleased with himself.

Michael and I watched him leave quietly, the silence growing uncomfortable between us. I could not bear to look at Michael. I imagined the look on his face already: disappointment, judgment, anger, frustration. I wished the day would end already. It had been one turbulent event after the other since I arrived in Siena, and I could not wait to leave for Paris.

“Well, that was interesting,” Michael said, breaking the silence. “What are the odds that my best friend is your brother?”

I said nothing, still refusing to look at him. I thought about how to go about pretending that I was in a relationship with Michael for a whole day. I imagined it was going to be as hard for him as it would be for me. I felt bad for dragging him into a family mess in which his anger and frustration were completely justified.

“Looks like you get a major kick out of lying,” Michael continued. “You just lied to your brother, easy as breathing. You told it so comfortably and without flinching that you shocked even me. What version of you is this? Was it all an act in Milan?”

I had heard enough. I started walking back to the party. Michael grabbed my arm and tugged it gently, stopping me in place. “Hey! You do not walk out on me. What’s gotten into you?”

“You don’t get to speak about things you don’t understand!” I snapped, spinning around to face him. “You do not know what is going on here! I am sorry for what happened in Milan, and for all that’s going on here. You don’t understand, and I can’t make you understand.”

He stared at me, a stricken look on his face. “Look, I may not understand what’s going on, but I know you’ve been acting weird, and I want to know why. It is fine if you do not feel the need to share, though. It would be bad form for people to see us fighting right now, so can we just try to make it work? It can’t be that hard, right?”

I regarded him quietly and saw he was being sincere. “Fine. I have to warn you, though, my aunts can be too much. Sorry.”

He smiled. “I guess I can handle that. Come on.”

He offered an arm, and I slipped a hand through it as he led us back to the party. I thought about how good we looked together and took slim comfort from that. I also enjoyed the look on Giorgio’s face when we walked past him, smiling as if we were a couple that had been in love for years.

Michael led us through groups of guests to an empty table on the fringe of the gathering, then left to get us both some food and drinks. I had not found time to process how I felt about seeing Michael again. I watched him as he weaved past a dancing couple and felt a familiar stir inside.

I had missed him and wanted nothing more than to return to that hotel in Milan and relive the divine moments we had shared. I could not have that, though. The last thing I wanted to do was to drag him into the super mess that was my family.

He returned a few moments later, a bottle of my father’s new vintage and two glasses in his hand, with two servers trailing in his wake with plates of food. He set the bottle and glasses down in front of me, kissing me affectionately on the forehead.

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