Page 23 of The Holiday Hate-Off
“Not him,” I insist, my heart pounding hard. “He doesn’t deserve it. Can wepleasejust make him dress up like a Christmas elf or lobster and call it a day?”
“Leave this to me,” she says in a placating tone I’ve heard a dozen times. I know what that means. She still one hundred percent intends to find a girlfriend for Enzo. Maybe she’s right, and he’d be a different man if he were getting laid. And yet…
“I don’t like him.”
“I know, dear,” she says with a soft smile. “You know, I’d hoped to have a different friend bid on someone for you at the auction at Hook, Wine, and Sinker, but the competition was fierce. I’m afraid I don’t have that much money in my reserves.”
“At least Enzo was cheap.”
She laughs. “I didn’t say he was cheap.”
Less expensive would still gall him, I’m sure.
“I don’t want you to help him, Eileen. I mean it. He was an awful boyfriend to Rachelle.”
She sighs softly. “Indeed, but I heard from Wren, that lovely young woman who runs The Haven with her father, that Rachelle was a bit of a nightmare as a guest. She snuck her phone into yoga class and kept complaining about the poor reception.”
“I’m sure she was upset about Enzo. Heisupsetting.”
“Very possible. But I’ve also heard that she asked her massage therapist to do something that made the young man very uncomfortable, and then she left The Haven a one-star review and didn’t tip anyone.”
“Seriously?” I ask, appalled.
“Oh, yes. Wren was very upset. She’d gone out of her way to be kind to her.”
“Okay, fine,” I concede. “Rachelle does sound terrible. But that doesn’t mean Enzo doesn’t suck, too, Eileen. He’s not anice man. Actually, it makes sense that two awful people would find each other.”
“I understand why you think so, of course.”
Still, she doesn’t promise she won’t help him, and the thought of her finding him a nice, sweet girlfriend to love him and inflate his huge ego creates a sore spot in my chest, one that no amount of rubbing will subdue.
The door at the front of the café opens, and Charlie enters. “Lucy, why are you rubbing your tits?”
“I’m not.” I drop my hand and open the box of decorations we’d organized. “I have a psychological ailment that has physical manifestations.”
“The bowlfuls of jelly didn’t work out, I’m afraid,” Eileen tells her. “They look a little like testicles.”
I swallow a laugh, then snap my fingers. “Audrey can save us.”
Making Whoopie is right next door. The owner, Audrey, makes whoopie pies that are to-die-for. Charlie and I took a cake decorating class with her a few months ago, and we’ve gone out for drinks a few times. Of course Eileen isdyingto set her up with someone.
Oh, dear God, I can’t let her set up poor Audrey with Enzo.What if she gets tricked into liking him, and then he gets to eat her delicious whoopie pies every night? He doesn’t deserve her whoopie pies!
I’ll have to convince Eileen not to have dinner with him, but now’s not the time. We need to pull off a Christmas coup first.
“We can decorate the whoopie pies to look like elves,” I add, feeling inspired. “This is going to work. Everything is going to be awesome. So much better than last night at Hidden Italy.”
Eileen grins in response. “That’s the spirit.”
So why do I feel like I just jinxed us?
CHAPTER 6
ENZO
“Remember that guy? He’s a total douchebag,” I grumble, watching across the town square as the douchebag in question accepts a Santa hat and beard at the door of Love at First Sip.
It’s Friday evening, December 2nd. My brother and I just watched the enormous Advent calendar get wheeled away from the café by the ancient woman who’s in charge of it, signaling the end of the Advent calendar portion of the evening. She was followed out by Charlie and Lars, their arms wrapped around each other.
