Page 2 of Loving Her

“Hm?” Ruby frowned.Date? I don’t need a date.

“Someone’s circled the “Plus One” field on the RSVP card in bright purple ink. And put little smiley face stickers around it.” Natalie waved the card in the air. “I think there are some expectations here.”

Ruby snatched the card out of her roommate’s hand and stared at it. Sure enough, there were quite a few purple loops scrawled around the Plus One, and yes, stickers too. Her frown deepened. “I don’t understand… oh.” As the realization hit her, dread spread out from the pit of her stomach like a wave of crude oil. “Oh,no.”

Natalie looked at her, both eyebrows up now and curiosity all over her face. “What? Oh no what?”

“I’m it. I’m the last.” Ruby thought back to all the weddings. Her oldest sister Rose. Then her older twin brothers, Domenic and Dante. Her Aunt Cecelia’s kids, all six, from Philip to Allegra to Isabella to Nico to Leo to Vincent. Uncle Leo’s brood, too—Anthony and Paul, only nine months apart in age, had actually come to blows over their weddings that had been in the same month just last year. And now Daniel, the baby of the whole lot, was getting married. All of the Fierelli kids in her generation—Ruby didn’t even want to factor her mother’s side of the family into the equation—were now married.

Except for her. She was it. The last single Fierelli. And someone clearly thought it was time for her to begin thinking about remedying that situation. Or at least to look like she was.

“Rubes?” Natalie waved a hand in front of her face. “Earth to Ruby. You still with me?”

“Whether I like it or not.” Ruby shook her head. “I’d kind of like the Earth to open up and swallow me whole so I can get out of this right about now, though.”

“That’s crazy, you were so excited literally two minutes ago!” Natalie stared at her. “What the hell? And what do you mean, you’re the last?”

“Nat, I’m thelast one. The last single Fierelli. All of my siblings and cousins have married themselves off over the last ten years.I am it. At 35. Single, writer, dog mom. And I’m about to have to attend the biggest wedding we’ve had yet, to be in the loving bosom of my Italian American family, with the expectation that I bring a date. For an entire week.”

“Oooh.” Natalie’s eyes went Betty Boop-round. “Are they expecting amaledate?”

“No, thankGod.Clouds, lining, etc. They are very aware that any date I bring will be of the lady persuasion.” Ruby rubbed at her temples. A real bitch of a headache was starting to set in. “It’s just going to be so much pressure, you know? They’ll mean well, they want me to be happy the way they’re happy. We’re all a bunch of romantics at heart, we love love.”

“It sounds sweet,” Natalie said, a hint of wistfulness in her eyes. Ruby knew she’d grown up in a family that was supportive, but not overly affectionate. She chose her next words with more care.

“It is. It’s just… a lot. And whoever comes with me is in for it, too.” Ruby looked at the invitation again. “I have two months to find a date—and I definitelyhave tofind a date—and prepare them for the experience that is a Fierelli Lovefest. With added Are YouThe OneFor Our Little Girl? spice. I don’t know who could be up for that.”

“It’s tempting to volunteer, from a like, social anthropology standpoint.” Natalie stood up and grinned. “Very tempting. Let me know if you don’t find anyone else. I’m great under pressure, as your roommate I’ve got loads of insider information, and last week I thrifted an amazing vintage Azzadine Alaïa thatneedsan occasion. I can fill in, in a pinch.” Just then, their doorbell chimed through the apartment. “Pizza’s here. Come set the coffee table, we’ll watchLaw & Order. You deserve a break.”

“Roger that.” Ruby got up and reached up towards her ceiling for one more big stretch. The break was definitely deserved, she thought. She’d just experienced a whirlwind of emotions in a handful of minutes after a long and solid day of writing. And she had a long road ahead of her getting ready for Daniel and Angela’s wedding.

But that, Ruby reflected as she walked out of her room and beckoned for Winston to follow her, was a problem for Future Ruby. Tonight, pizza and crime drama called her name.

2

CHAPTER 2

“Eighty six, the Truffled Halloumi Fries,” Sasha Ashford called out to the kitchen staff as she threw the packaging from her last packet of halloumi cheese into the plastic recycling. “Okay, so those are definitely a hit.”

Sous-chef Sophie looked up from where she was plating the last serving of the fries on a bed of baby butter lettuce leaves, with a cup of Sasha’s homemade peppercorn ranch dressing tucked in next to them. “So they’ll go on the menu full-time?”

Sasha pressed her hands against the base of her spine and stretched backward. “Probably. I’m gonna wait a couple of weeks before I put in for another shipment of halloumi, to see what kind of buzznothaving them generates after they sold out the whole month of this experiment. I want to make sure there’s a good chance they’ll keep selling.”

Rebecca, the dessert specialist, drifted by with a Mexican Hot Chocolate pie in her hands. “Esme loves them, too.”

“Yeah, that plate is for her; she’s why we’re out of them today!” Sasha laughed as she pulled down the next ticket. “They’ve replaced the loaded nachos as her favorite… hmm.” Shepaused for thought, the ticket dangling forgotten from her hand. “Do loaded nacho halloumi fries sound good?”

Everyone in the kitchen at the Indigo Lounge stopped to think about the suggestion. “Yes,” Rebecca said with a definitive nod of her head. “Yes. Absolutely. Yes. And don’t make us wait two weeks for a taste test, Sash.”

“Seconded,” Sophie volunteered. “But they should be special, seasonal, limited. Maybe for next month as a sort of Cinco de Mayo thing? Even though halloumi isn’t Mexican…”

“Still, that sounds like a plan to me. I like it. OK, I’ll put in a small order of halloumi so we can do some thorough taste testing.” Beaming at her amazing kitchen staff, Sasha looked back down at the ticket in her hand. It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at, and when she did, a flock of butterflies took flight in her stomach. “I got this one.”

It was a simple order, just a basket of peppered sweet potato chips with hot honey glaze, but only one person ever ordered them, or knew that it was possible to order sweet potato chips at the Indigo Lounge at all. Sasha hummed Sarah McLachlan’s “Ice Cream” to herself as she carefully sliced a sweet potato with a mandoline. Gently, she lowered the thin chips into a fresh hot oil bath, keeping a careful eye on them so that they came out perfectly crisp. She blotted all of the excess oil off with a clean paper towel before sprinkling a generous helping of smoky Urfa Biber pepper over the chips, then a handful of feta crumbles, followed by a drizzle of her special hot honey glaze. This went under the broiler to get the cheese a little melty and toasty over the chips.

Working quickly, Sasha also mixed up a big mango-passionfruit milkshake, even though it wasn’t on the ticket and Rebecca usually handled the milkshakes as part of her dessert duties. She filled a stemmed milkshake glass with the creamy concoction and sprayed a small mountain of whipped cream ontop, dusted that with fruity sprinkles, and placed a maraschino cherry with laser precision.

Only when everything was perfect did she load up a tray and personally convey the order out to the bar herself, bypassing Cam Casey waiting at the kitchen window. Cam, a jack-of-all-trades at the Lounge who was picking up a wait shift today, raised one knowing eyebrow and nodded.

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