Page 16 of The Holiday Hate-Off
It’s just…
I don’t like Devil Woman’s plan.
Maybe it’s because I was raised to feel protective of women, and I know there are plenty of predators out there who’d take advantage of an innocent woman’s offer.
Or, maybe, like Aria would say, I have an impulse to control everyone.
I like the situation even less because every single person here in the crowd at Hidden Italy—which is much sparser than I’d hoped—has been whispering about Santa Speed Dating, and whether the women will be asked to wear costumes too.
Have I been imagining what Devil Woman would look like dressed up in a little red outfit fringed with white?
God, I can’t seem to stop.
Like I said, my blood’s been running hot, in more ways than one.
I’ve been asked five times what else we have planned for tonight, as if what we’re offering isn’t exciting enough given what’s been advertised next door. While I need to focus on amping up the party, I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow’s event at the café either. Something tells me Devil Woman is the reason for the Santa Speed Dating plan. Like maybe the whole event was organized so she could have a roomful of men to choose from.
None of my business.
Except…she made it my business. Because this was supposed to be a big night for Hidden Italy, dammit. The people here shouldn’t be gossiping about what Love at First Sip is planning for tomorrow. They shouldn’t be gossiping about who’s going and what they’re going to wear. But they are. They’re standing in little clusters, eating our food, drinking our drinks, and talking aboutthem.
“What’s up with you?” Giovanni asks, nudging my shoulder. “You look even more dissatisfied than usual.”
I grunt in response, watching as Nico holds out a plate to Mayor Locke, offering him what must be his fifth sample of our “famous” Italian sandwich. Or at least that’s what it says on the placard on the tray. My grandmother is standing right next to him, watching.
“Uh, no, thank you,” Mayor Locke says as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet. He’s several feet away from me, standing by the wall and surveying the lukewarm crowd.
“You don’t like it?” Nonna asks, her tone hostile. She’s been downing grappa all evening, but she’s still salty. She dressed all in black tonight—not unusual for her, but she told me she’s mourning my manhood, which I gave up to the mayor by begging to host this event.
So be it.
She agreed to tear off the number for the Advent calendar countdown. So she can give me as much shit about it as she wants.
“You think there’s something wrong with my grandson’s cooking?” she asks the mayor.
He sighs wearily, probably wishing he’d asked for Will after all. “It’s perfect, Francesca.” He glances around, taking in the Christmas tree, the huge bowl of roasted chestnuts, and all of the hired students circulating with trays of samples.
“But is itmoist?” Giovanni asks, just to cause trouble.
That’s Giovanni for you. He’s the shit stirrer of our family. Aria even gave him a “Chief Shit Stirrer” plaque for his place a couple of Christmases ago.
“Just the man I need,” I say, stepping forward and putting an arm around the mayor’s shoulders. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
My grandmother makes an annoyed grunt. The mayor looks like he’s liable to kiss me, however, and I lead him away to a mostly quiet corner.
“This event was on the town calendar, wasn’t it?” I ask, gesturing to the thinner-than-expected crowd. “Have the people of Hideaway Harbor stopped caring about Christmas?”
He sighs, glancing over at his pretty blonde wife, Erica, who’s on her second limoncello cocktail. She’s whispering to a woman I don’t recognize, and I’d bet the contents of my bankaccount it has something to do with Love at First Sip, especially since Eileen and Erica are close friends. “Well,” he glances back to me, “I’m not happy about it either, to tell you the truth. There’s another big event tonight, a bachelor auction at Hook, Wine, and Sinker, and it’s drawn people away.”
My stomach sinks. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You didn’t think to mention this when I asked about December 1st?”
He gives me a glare that suggests he remembers what I looked like in the suspenders Nonna made me wear to Easter mass when I was a kid. “I didn’t know about it when we had lunch.”
My mind shifts to Devil Woman.Sheknows about this. She was baiting me about it earlier. Well played.
But the game’s not over…
I return my focus to the mayor.
