Page 64 of The Holiday Hate-Off
“It is,” he agrees, his expression playful. “My grandmother listens to me less than the CEOs I’ve worked with. But what can I do? Blood is thicker than water.”
This again. I scowl at him. “Not always.”
The server comes back, stopping at Enzo’s table first. She looks at him as if he’s made of chocolate cake.
“What would you like, handsome?” she asks. Her lipstick is the absolute perfect shade of red, and she’s gorgeous. They’d probably have insanely good-looking children.
I’m surprised by how much this thought annoys me, but I tell myself it’s only because the attention she’s giving Enzo is feeding his ego.
He gives her a blinding smile. “I don’t know, Nadine. What wouldyouget? I need a woman’s perspective.”
I snort before I can catch myself. From the scandalized look on Nadine’s face, I might as well have sworn loudly in a church.
“Lucy?” Hudson asks, and I realize he just asked me a question.
“I’m so sorry. I missed that,” I say. “The acoustics in here are a bit wonky.”
The server turns to us, her lips compressing into a tight line. “My brother worked on this building. I can assure you there’s nothing wrong with the acoustics. Do you know what you’d like?”
I’m flushing as I order the vegetarian entrée.
“Are you sure?” she asks hesitantly.
“Is it bad?”
“No, of course not,” she insists. “I didn’t say that. I’dneverinsult the chef. It’s just…this is a high-endseafoodrestaurant.”
Which is all well and good, except I’ve never really liked seafood. But I remember trying their classy play on fish and chips and mostly liking it.
“I’ll get the fish and chips,” I say.
She takes Hudson’s order and then walks away.
“Oh, this is funny,” Enzo says, lifting up his phone, demanding we give him our attention.
I give him an incredulous look. “We’re on a date, Enzo. We don’t care if you found a hilarious YouTube video.”
“Actually, it’s a message from your mother, Hudson. She saysmy date was supposed to be with your sister, but she forgot to tell her.” He lifts his hands in awhat can you do?gesture. “If you want to know the truth, I thought she was sending Lucia to have dinner with me. She certainly made it sound like that, but she never mentioned her by name. Isn’t that a funny coincidence?”
“Not really,” Hudson says. “But if you’d like, I’d be happy to text Harper.”
“No, no,” he says. “I don’t want to disturb her night. Besides, she’s a little young for me.” His eyes widen theatrically. “Oh, I’ve put my foot in it. I forgot that you’re younger than Lucy. This is awkward.”
“Younger by two years,” I say, repressing the desire to throw a fork at him. Barely.
“I prefer to date older women,” Hudson says with a grin.
“Wonderful,” I say, beaming. “So do I.”
Oh crap. That’s not what I meant.
“I mean, I love older men,” I say. Enzo laughs as I correct myself yet again—“Youngermen. Older men think they know everything. They’re controlling, and no one wants that.”
I take a long sip of my shitty wine.
“Soooo,” Hudson says, and then diplomatically changes the subject, “Eileen tells me you’re making an app cataloging businesses for one of your classes. She says you’ve been talking to all of the shop owners in Hideaway Harbor.”
“You haven’t spoken with us,” Enzo interjects.
