Page 36 of Friends Who Fake It

“Are you looking for compliments, Francesco?”

“It’s always nice to be wanted.”

She ignored the pang in the centre of her chest, that reminded her of how unwanted she’d always known herself to be. How much she didn’t belong, even in her own family.

The car drew to a stop out the front of the villa and Willow glanced over Francesco’s shoulder, towards the home. Something shifted inside of her then. That sense of ‘coming back’ returned, but she imagined how it must have been for Francesco. Thiswashis home. The place hedidbelong, where hewaswanted.

Unlike Willow, he was an important part of a big, interwoven family, bursting at the seams with love and respect. They were all different, yet they worked alongside one another. She’d seen it from the sidelines for years—she’d just never thought she’d be jettisoned to the centre of it.

A pang of guilt clutched her insides, as this harmless plan—developed on the spur of the moment, with the aim of getting her stepmother off her back—suddenly seemed to have taken on a life of its own. And drawn a whole lot more people into the mix.

“I’m sorry about this,” she said, looking back into his eyes and feeling a hard thudding of her heart.

“What are you sorry for,cara?”

“You agreed to help me, and now, I feel like I’m…”

“Willow, listen to me,” he said, moving his hand from her chin to her cheek. “You know me. Do you think I would have brought you here, to carry on this ruse, if on some level I wasn’t having fun?”

Her heart skidded. “Umm…no?”

He nodded slowly. “That’s why this has to be the end of it,” he said, gently. “One last weekend, then it’s over. Neither of us wants this to get out of hand.”

She nodded, in complete agreement, even when a part of her worried that they’d already let it. From that first kiss, out the front of her parents’ house, something had shifted between them. She just hoped that through the sheer strength of their combined will, they’d be able to put Pandora back in the box. But, no.

She wouldn’t let it. She’d made her heart a promise, to protect her, and Willow intended to see that through. They were both in agreement, then. One last weekend, then a break, so they could one day resume their friendship without any of this getting in the way.

“Okay,” she kept her voice light. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

“The first pizza is usually the safest,” Portia Santoro offered with a grimace, gesturing to the plate that Gianni had just placed on the outdoors table. Despite it being the depths of winter, the evening was not too cold, and outdoor fires had been lit on the vine covered terrace of the Santoro family villa.

“Oh, God,” Willow grimaced. “I’ve heard about the pizzas. Why did I not think to eat beforehand?”

Portia grinned. “It’s weird, but you kind of get used to it.”

“Wasn’t there a banana pizza one time?” Willow asked Portia—who had worked for Dante Santoro for years before falling in love with his younger brother Marco and getting married to him.

“Oh, it wasn’t just banana. There was also prosciutto and honey on thesamepizza.”

Willow felt nausea rising inside of her at the idea alone.

“That wasn’t as bad as the scampi and marmalade scenario,” Maddie approached them, holding a pitcher of mineral water, which she placed on the table.

“How did I forget that one?” Portia said with a laugh.

“Protectively selective memory?”

“Or possible LSD side effects of the ingredients?” Maddie countered with a grin. “Hi, I’m Maddie,” she said. “I think we met briefly, at Raf and Marcia’s wedding?”

“Right,” Willow nodded. “You did those incredible flowers?”

Rocco Santoro beamed with pride as he approached and caught the tail end of the conversation, putting an arm around his wife Maddie’s waist. “They were incredible flowers.”

“Where are Raf and Marcia?” Willow asked, glancing around. She’d always liked Francesco’s younger brother, even when his wife was a bit hard to take.

Maddie and Rocco exchanged a glance. “He’s not coming.”

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