Page 23 of Love Around the Corner
“This is Nick. He’s doing the coding for my dissertation. Remember?”
“Right.” Gemma’s shrewd gaze made short work of Nick. “DeWitt.”
“DeWitt and I broke up. Like me and Poppy broke up.” He laughed at his own bad joke.
“Who’s Poppy?” Gemma asked Livie as Nick tossed back the rest of his drink.
“His girlfriend. Well, his ex-girlfriend, I guess. She threw him out. He said he wanted a drink, so I brought him here.”
Gemma looked back at Nick. “Looks like he’s had half the bottle already. I’m Gemma, Livie’s sister.”
“Nice t’meet you.”
“You hungry?” Gemma asked him.
He craned his head around in confusion. “This is a restaurant?”
“No, but I keep stuff cooking in the back for family. I’ll make you a plate.”
“I’m not really—”
“If you’re gonna keep sucking on that bottle, you’re gonna eat something.”
Gemma turned and headed to the back before Nick could protest further.
“I don’t need to eat,” he said.
“She needs to feed you.”
“But—”
“She’s like the Pasta Whisperer. She’ll just guilt you until you eat. Trust me on this.”
Nick broke out in laughter.
“See, you’re really funny, Livie.”
“I am?” When people complimented her, they generally mentioned her intelligence, her dedication, her work ethic. Nobody had ever complimented her sense of humor. She hadn’t been aware she had one.
Nick leaned closer. Despite the vodka fumes, her heart started pounding. His voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s likestealthhumor. I don’t even get that you said something funny until it’s over. Like...like a drive-by joke. That’s it.”
Gemma returned, saving Livie from forcing her frozen vocal cords to function. She set a bowl of pasta and sauce in front of Nick and left part of a loaf of Italian bread on a napkin next to it.
“Maria DiPaola brought me some leftover bread,” she said.
“Who?” he asked in confusion, still staring at his food as if mystified by its existence.
“Maria DiPaola?” Livie said. “DiPaola’s Bakery next door?”
“Oh, right. I forgot all about them. They’re still open?”
“Toughing it out with the rest of us old-timers,” Gemma said briskly. She pointed at Nick. “Eat that.” Then she turned to Livie. “Keep an eye on him. He’s a mess.”
“That’s why I brought him here,” she said, as Gemma left to relieve Clyde. Because when you were in trouble and needed looking after, Romano’s Bar was the only place she knew to come to.
Despite saying he wasn’t hungry, Nick dutifully picked up his fork and took a bite. Then another, and another. “This is amazing,” he said, mouth stuffed.
“Gemma’s a good cook.”
