Page 30 of Falling for my Family's Rival

MARISSA

“You are not going to believe this.”

My bedroom door flies open, and my sister storms in. Her face is bright red, and I can tell that she’s mad as heck about something. I shift into a sitting position and flip Romeo and Juliet upside down to mark my page. Chiara must have just come from work, as she’s still wearing her uniform. I know how badly some of the shifts can go, so maybe that’s all she’s upset about.

Chiara drops down onto my bed next to me and takes a deep breath, like she’s trying to calm herself down. She used to do this all the time when we were younger, especially in junior high and high school. It was her favorite way to vent and let off steam. She hasn’t done it as much recently, but I don’t mind that she’s doing it now.

“What happened?” I ask.

Chiara lays down dramatically, dragging one of my pillows to prop up her head. She looks back at me, like I just asked the stupidest question ever. I fight back a sigh. Fighting with Chiara is also a normal part of our relationship. I just don’t want to do it at ten o’clock at night, when I was just getting ready for bed.

“Dad was totally right,” she says at last.

“Right about what?” I ask.

“Those creeps from Venetian Dreams are totally trying to sabotage us,” Chiara says with gritted teeth.

My blood runs cold for a second, and I forget to breathe. When she shoots me a questioning look, I remember that I need to engage with her. I don’t know what she knows or what she thinks she knows, and I need to find out before I freak out.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “How do you know that?”

“Because I caught one of them messing around in the kitchen tonight,” Chiara says.

My mind begins to spin situations imagining that person as Luca. Why? I’m not sure, but I do know that I want to question my sister without revealing why I’m freaking out over it so much. I don’t know how to do that.

Finally I ask, “Who was it?”

Even though I ask as casually as I can, I’m not sure that Chiara buys it. She twists around so that she can look at me. I try to act casual, but I know that she has to suspect something. Even though Chiara and I aren’t as close as I would like to be, she still knows me pretty well.

“He said his name was Angelo,” she says. “And he claimed not to be doing it to hurt the restaurant. He just thought it would be funny to mess with us.”

She rolls her eyes and returns to her former position. I let myself breathe a sigh of relief. From things that Luca has said, this seems to be in character for Angelo. Still, I don’t know what he did or what he might have said. And with everything that’s gone on, I don’t want to assume anything right now.

“What was he doing?” I ask, still trying to engage with my sister without seeming suspicious.

“Just stupid stuff,” Chiara says. “He was swapping ingredients, like sugar for salt. He hid some of the spatulas. Nothing crazy, just junior high boy crap.”

“What did you do when you caught him?” I’m trying to keep my voice neutral, but I’m sure that I am failing miserably.

“I marched him out back and gave him a talking to,” she says.

“And… how did he react to that?” I ask. I’m feeling a little better about the whole situation. It seems like Luca was right about the way Angelo reacts to things. He wasn’t doing anything overly destructive, but it might have made him feel better, like he was getting some sort of revenge.

“He admitted to everything,” Chiara said. “I got the impression, though, that he didn’t really want to tell me the real reason he was there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Chiara says. “Why aren’t you more concerned about the fact that this Angelo was in the restaurant trying to make trouble?”

My mouth goes dry. What else does Chiara know? What did Angelo say to her? Should I just confess to everything? What will she do if I tell her the truth? I don’t know how to proceed. Sure, I always knew that there could very well be some kind of big reveal, where someone in my family found out about me and Luca, and I’ve tried to imagine what I would do in that situation. The truth is, I still don’t know what to do, even as I’m being faced with that probable situation.

“I’m not concerned, because you handled it,” I say, trying to stall for time. I need to think.

Chiara sits up. “Okay, fine,” she says, “but I still think something weird is going on with you. You’ve been cagey all week.”

Okay, maybe she doesn’t suspect anything, since she’s saying that it’s just been one week. What can I tell her that isn’t the full truth, but isn’t a lie either? Is that even possible to do? I don’t know what to think.

“I’m seeing someone,” I blurt out.

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