Page 21 of The Holiday Hate-Off
My heart is pounding faster now, as if a second cup of sugar were tossed in with the first. Enzo acted like I was a feebleminded idiot for helping Eileen set up Santa Speed Dating, and a couple of hours later, he pulled off a stunt like that?
“Was it impromptu?”
“Yeah,” she says, smiling. “But I have to admit, it was a hell of a good time. The party started out a bit boring, but by the time they announced the auction, we’d all had a few limoncello cocktails. They put together a few baskets filled with goods from the store to sweeten the deal, then each of them got up on a table to show off their own goods, if you know what I mean.”
“Enzo did that?” I ask in choked disbelief.
“Gio’s the one who got on the table first. But Enzo won’t let anyone best him.”
“Well, that certainly sounds like him,” I mutter.
“So the next thing we know, he’s on a table too. Of course, Nico, the youngest brother, doesn’t like to get left behind, so he was the third one to climb up. Their grandmother looked like she was about to have a stroke, so I got her some limoncello. Which she definitely needed once the guys started dancing.”
“Dancing?” I’m basically echoing everything she’s saying now, but I can’t help myself.
“It’s too bad Eileen wasn’t there. She would have thought it was a total hoot, but her friend Erica was in the front row. She threw a bunch of crumpled dollar bills at them, and then the money started flying. Someone even threw a bra, and Enzo caught it in his teeth. No one admitted it was theirs, but we all knew whose it was, because her girls were hanging low. You know, I think the Cafiero boys were inspired byyoutoo. They’re donating the profits from their auction to the same charity you’re donating to for Santa Speed Dating.”
Anger ripples through me, and it takes me a moment to get a grip on myself. I remind myself that Iwantmoney to go to Toys for Tots.
Still, I mutter, “He’s a copycat.”
I can practically see the way he’d look at me if he heard me say that—eyes narrowed, mouth curled slightly up.
Naïve little girl.
Portia smiles at me. “They call it the highest form of flattery. But those boys might be regretting it soon enough. All three of them, I’m guessing.”
“Why?” I ask, leaning in slightly.
She casts a glance at the tourists milling around the shop, then leans over the counter. “They said the woman who won the date gets to plan it. Each of the brothers had a pitch for possible activities, but I figure all of us winners have our own plans. I won Giovanni, and I’m going to make him pull taffy inmy shop. I think I can get every woman in Hideaway Harbor in to watch. He’ll be doing it shirtless.”
I laugh, surprised and delighted. “What’d he do to you?”
“Not a damn thing. Giovanni’s my buddy, but I like to give him shit, and we’re all protective of Eileen. That’s why Enzo should be worried. Erica got into a bidding war with a tourist and won him.
“I’m not sure what she intends for him,” Portia continues with a sparkle in her eyes, “but I’m sure it won’t be easy. Maybe she and Mayor Locke will ask him to be a walking sandwich board advertising Love at First Sip. Or she might have him dress up like Larry the Lobstah and do the tree lighting this year instead of what’s-his-face.”
The thought of arrogant Enzo with his suits and ties and luxurious cashmere jackets being forced to dress as a giant lobster with a Santa hat makes me feel absolutely effervescent.
“What about the youngest brother?” I ask.
“Nico was won by a local too. A pretty girl named Resa, and he was looking smug about it too until she said she wanted him to pose for an ice sculpture. They’re having a competition at the Locke Reserve in a couple of weeks. She said it would take at least an hour and a half to carve.”
“Oh, you’ve made my day, Portia. That is freaking amazing.”
“I thought you’d be glad to hear it,” she says with a wink. “Now, how’s that app coming along?”
A couple of women form a line behind me, and Portia finally runs my card, then hands it back.
“Slowly,” I admit. “Have you checked the board atThe Almanactoday?”
This is one of Hideaway Harbor’s little quirks. There’s a huge bulletin board in the lobby ofThe Almanac, the town paper, and each day they share the weather report and the projected state of the Wi-Fi. They do it with little smiley or frowny faces.
She scrunches her nose. “The Wi-Fi was themehface. I sent a text to my mother half an hour ago, and it still hasn’t gone through, but my shop’s always had the worst signal and Wi-Fi in town. I think there’s a hellmouth buried beneath it.”
“No, that’s beneath Hidden Italy,” I say before I can contain myself.
She smirks. “Enzo better watch out for you.”
