Page 88 of The Holiday Hate-Off
What if she’s not just photographing him for Portia? What if she plans on sharing those photos with single women around town?
The thought puts a sour twist in my stomach.
“Keep the shirt,” Charlie says, nudging my arm. “We can auction it off.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend that,” Nico interjects. “Auctions are a slippery slope, unless you’re Giovanni. Then you get off scot-free.”
Giovanni laughs. “So you say. Enzo’s going to get lucky tonight. No doubt about it. All I’ll have to show for this is some taffy with my brother’s chest hair in it.”
Everyone around us laughs with him, except for Lars, who still seems nervous to be surrounded by Cafieros. And me. I can’t even force a smile. That sour feeling in my stomach is growing.
“All right, friends,” Portia says, addressing us through the window. “The demonstration is about to begin. First, let’s start with a round of applause for my helper here.”
Everyone applauds, and someone wolf-whistles.
“His little brother Giovanni was supposed to help me, but he has a super gnarly rash. Really disgusting with lots of bumps and pustules and whatnot. We didn’t want to subject all of you to that.” She blows a kiss at Giovanni, who shakes his head, his mouth quirked in amusement. “We’re pulling peppermint taffy today to celebrate the season, and we’re giving away all of it to you lovely people, aren’t we?”
Enzo lifts his hand in a wave. “Ho ho ho.”
He says it so grumpily I can’t help but laugh.
I don’t want him to see me laughing, though, so I press my lips together as Portia pours hot taffy over the cold metal surface of a long table inside the kitchen. She guides us through what she’s doing, and the majority of the people in the store stand rapt, their attention laser-focused on Portia and Enzo.
Portia has just finished spreading the taffy when a woman enters the store through the side entrance, her cap pulled low over her face. Eileen looks back, as if she were expecting this, and waves the woman over, beaming.
That’s when I recognize Amanda—and realize she’s heading straight for me.
I grin at her as she gets closer, then whisper, “How did your wish go the other night?”
She smiles back and says in an undertone, “I think it brought me here. Do you know Portia?”
“I do.” I give her a meaningful look. “She’s someone who’s defiantly herself. I’ve always admired that about her.”
“Me too,” she says, peering through the window with that million-dollar smile of hers.
I’m giddy, the way Eileen must feel when she realizes she’s played a part in something beautiful.
“Do I look incognito?” Amanda whispers, leaning into me.
“Absolutely not,” I say. “But don’t let that stop you.”
She squeezes my hand. “I won’t. Thanks, Lucy. I’ll come by and see you soon.”
She offers me a final smile before releasing me and edging in next to Eileen, who greets her with a warm hug and then whispers something in her ear.
Portia notices her, and although she doesn’t wave, her whole face lights up as she talks about the importance of getting enough air bubbles in the taffy.
Enzo spots Amanda as well and smiles at me, his eyes twinkling. As if to say:I did this.
Of course he feels responsible.
He probably thinks he can get the whole world to march at his command.
Still, I can’t deny my attention is hyperfocused on him as Portia lifts the ropes of taffy up and layers them over his arms, as if he’s holding garland to decorate a tree.
“Now, this is where Santa’s muscles are going to come in handy,” she says with a smirk at the window. At Amanda. “He’s going to stretch the taffy to get the right amount of air into it.”
He starts, his muscles bunching with the movement.
