Page 34 of Cherry on Top

“God, do I look that bad?” Enzo joked, while secretly worrying that maybe it was actually true.

Of course it didn’t actually matter if he did or not.

But he did set the basket on the desk. “I gotta wash my hands,” he said. And make sure I’m not embarrassing myself even more.

Will popped his head out of the office and gestured down towards where Enzo could see shiny kitchen equipment. “There’s a staff restroom down that way.”

Enzo found it and took his time, grimacing in the mirror at the smear of dirt on his cheekbone, the way his hair had flattened out with sweat. He washed up carefully and fluffed out his curls out as best he could, deciding that at least he’d return to Will’s office clean.

When he did, Will had opened the basket and set out the food.

Giana had not lied; she’d made enough for two of them, easily. Which begged the question of just how she’d intended to get the two of them to share it, if Will hadn’t happened to come outside at just the right time.

When Enzo said this, more theorizing than wanting an actual answer, Will smiled. “You don’t think she has video equipment set up everywhere?” he wondered. “Maybe she’s got a spy relay system, up and down Main Street?”

“Oh, she might,” Enzo said, flopping down onto the chair, then looking over the different takeout containers that he was opening. There was a nice selection of antipasti, along with fresh bread from Oliver’s. “She did make her artichoke spread. She really must like you.”

“Or,” Will joked, “she really hopes I’ll like you.”

God, that was probably true.

“She doesn’t make it for just anyone,” Enzo said, ignoring that.

“I know she won’t give me the recipe. I tried replicating it, but I’m no cook.”

“I don’t know, those brownies from last night would beg to differ.” Enzo picked up a slice of bread and spread tapenade on it, added a few slices of prosciutto and a nice wedge of what smelled like smoked mozzarella. Chewed and swallowed, making happy humming noises in the back of his throat as he did so. Now that he’d finally cooled off some, he realized he’d been even hungrier than he’d imagined.

Will leaned over the desk and grabbed them two more bottles of water from the mini fridge underneath.

“Thanks,” Enzo said.

“That’s just simple baking,” Will argued.

“Oliver would probably disagree with that assessment.”

“True.” Will dipped a crostini in the artichoke spread and made his own set of happy noises as it disappeared into his mouth. “Maybe if I date you, Giana would be willing to give me this recipe.”

“Wanted only for my mom’s artichoke spread,” Enzo said mournfully.

Will laughed. Nudged him with an elbow. “Might actually be a solution,” he said.

“What do you mean?” Enzo ignored the way his voice went high and surprised. Hoped that Will would, too.

“She’s gonna be doing this all summer, isn’t she? As long as you’re here, working on the mural?”

Enzo wanted to tell Will that no, she wouldn’t, because he’d be taking care of it, he’d be convincing her to stop it, but he knew what his mother was like when she got her teeth into an idea. And frankly, Enzo had a feeling he and Will didn’t look all that averse to each other. Which was not going to help the situation.

“Probably, yeah. I can talk to her but well . . .” Enzo winced. Picked up a chunk of salami, sandwiching it between two pieces of provolone.

“That was what I thought,” Will confided. His blond hair shone under the lights, and he looked so clean and new and shiny, so gorgeous, Enzo ached with it.

Like this guy would ever need help getting a date.

“Yeah, well, I can still talk to her,” Enzo said, pushing down his humiliation.

“That’s what I’m trying to say. We don’t try to convince her to stop. Instead, we tell her we’re dating. And then maybe she’ll leave us alone. It’s what she wants. So we’ll just give it to her.”

“Uh,” Enzo stammered.

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