Page 43 of The Holiday Hate-Off
I’ve been spoiled in my apartment building, where the Wi-Fi seems to work better than in other places.
My brother picks up the whoopie pie and bites it, cream spurting onto his shirt.
“Damn,” he says with a moan. “That’sgood.”
My phone buzzesagain.
I know my brother, and there’s no way I’m getting his full attention until he’s inhaled that whole whoopie pie, so I pull out my phone and find a screenful of texts from Erica that were sent half an hour ago. They’re written in all caps, so it looks like my phone’s screaming at me.
HELLO, BACHELOR #1!
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT BASKET OF TREATS. JOHN GOT HEARTBURN FROM THE SARDINES, BUT I DON’T BLAME YOU FOR THAT, OF COURSE. IT’S HIS OWN FAULT FOR EATING THEM ALL.
I MADE HIM SHARE THE PANETTONE!
HE SAID HE NEEDS TO GET INTO SHAPE TO PLAY SANTA CLAUS, BUT WE BOTH KNOW THAT IT WAS JUST THAT GOOD. :-X
NOW, I HOPE YOU WON’T MIND, BUT A CERTAIN YOUNG LADY WE BOTH KNOW WANTED MY PRIZE FOR HERSELF, AND I WAS *MORE* THAN HAPPY TO SHARE THE WEALTH.
YOU KNOW EILEEN AND I ARE ALWAYS THRILLED TO HELP YOU YOUNG PEOPLE. ;-)
SHE ASKED ME NOT TO REVEAL WHO SHE IS UNTIL SHE SHOWS UP AT THE RESTAURANT. ISN’T THAT EXCITING? YOU CAN MEET HER AT HOOK, WINE, AND SINKER THIS THURSDAY AT 7:30 P.M.
I’VE HEARD YOU’RE A BIG FAN OF THEIRS.
THE RESERVATION IS UNDER YOUR NAME, DEAR.
I glance up sharply as Giovanni polishes off the rest of the whoopie pie, then dabs his shirt with a napkin.
“Damn,” he says. “This is the first one of these things I’ve ever tried. They’re from that place next door to the Sip. It’s too bad Nico can’t bake like this. If he could, we’d have people in and out that door all day.”
The thought sparks something in my brain, an idea waiting to be born. It’s related to whoopie pies and maybe even Portia, but I can’t flesh it out yet. I’ll have to coax it, feed it…and right now the front of my brain belongs solely to Lucy.
Something tells me this invitation to dinner is no olive branch. She’s making her next move against me, but what is it?
And why the fuck do I feel so turned on by the thought?
“Check it out,” I tell him, showing him the screen of my phone. “Erica’s talking about Lucy. Has to be.”
He moans. “No fair. You came up with this dumbass idea, and you get to go on a date with your dream girl, while Nico freezes his ass off and I have to pull taffy like apazzo.”
“Life isn’t fair, Giovanni,” I say with a shit-eating grin. “Besides, she’s definitely up to something.”
“You think she’s going to poison you or slip Ex-Lax into your drink?” he asks with a laugh.
“Maybe,” I say, half serious. Lucy did look pissed off enough last night to try something like that. “But I tell you what. I look forward to finding out.”
CHAPTER 11
ENZO
By the time the parade starts that afternoon, Lucy has already put up a flyer next to the door of Love at First Sip with a giant X over my face.
It says:
This man has been banned from Love at First Sip. Turn away without service.
There’s a little frowny face sketched beside it.
