Love Signals: An opposites-attract, forced proximity, only one bed, revenge romantic comedy (Love St

4. Moon Dust, Homemade Gnocchi, and Overly-honest Relatives

Allie

“Allegra Bianca Cammareri!Don’t make me call you again!” my mother hollers up the stairs.

“Jesus God, I’m not ten,” I mutter, getting up from my tiny desk in my bedroom and crossing the room. I yank open the door and poke my head out into the hall, only to see her standing at the bottom of the stairs with an apron over her church dress and her messy light brown hair, that I inherited, up in a bun to keep it off her face while she cooks.

We glare at each other for a second until I finally say, “What?”

“Are you dressed? It’s almost four o’clock. The family’s going to be here any minute.”

“Of course I’m dressed, Ma. It’s almost four o’clock.” The truth is, I’m in the same clothes I slept in because I was too tired to change into pajamas when I gave up on Frank at three a.m.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t get smart with me, young lady. I’m still your mother.”

“Ma, I don’t have time for this right now. I told you, I’ll be down to eat dinner, but then I need to get right back to work.”

If I could get out of it, I would. But missing Sunday supper is a cardinal sin in my family. My parents, along with my dad’s brother and his wife, own a bakery which is closed on Sundays, which means every Sunday, we have a big meal together, and attendance is mandatory. My sister missed it once when she went into labor with their first child, Camilla, and my relatives are still talking about it because she wasn’t born until Monday night at ten, which, in their eyes, means she definitely could’ve made it to supper.

“Pfft, work,” Ma says, waving her hand. “I’ll show you work. I had to make the gnocchi myself today. My hands are raw from peeling potatoes.”

“Why didn’t you just use premade pasta? It would’ve saved you hours.”

Her head snaps back and she looks like I’ve just suggested she serve the cat for dinner. “Premade? For Sunday dinner? Okay, that’s enough. You shut off that damn computer and come downstairs before you completely lose your mind.”

Rubbing my temples with both hands, I say, “Mom, I’m under a crazy tight deadline. My entire career…” and Lando’s demise… “depends on this. I promise I’ll be around to help out in a couple of weeks, maybe even next Sunday. But today, I have to stay focused.”

“You better be free next Sunday. It’s Landing Day, in case you forgot.”

“Obviously I know what next week is.” And by that I mean technically I’m aware of the date, but only because I’m counting down the days until the conference. As far as Landing Day goes? I totally forgot. It’s a holiday my family made up to celebrate the anniversary of their arrival here in the US. It’s an up-at-dawn, cook-til-you-drop event that rivals Christmas.

“You remember it’s not just any Landing Day, right?”

“Yes, of course. It’s … a big one.”

“That’s right, it’s a big one,” she answers, holding up four fingers. “It’s been forty years since the Cammareris made our way across the Atlantic and set up here in sunny California. Forty.”

Then why is she holding up four fingers? “Yup, got it. Forty. I’ll be there with bells on, Ma. I promise.”

“You’ll be down here all day helping?”

“I swear on your life, all day.”

She gives me a sharp look. “I don’t like it when you swear on my life. It’s tempting fate.”

I let out a groan, then point to my room with every ounce of urgency coursing through me.

“Fine, go back to work, but as soon as that doorbell rings, I want you down these stairs.”

“Fine,” I grind out.

“And … clean yourself up a bit. You look like you smell bad.”

“I look like I…? That doesn’t even make sense.”

She waves a hand at me and spins on her heel, walking away while I sniff my left armpit. Huh. Her theory actually holds some weight. I grab a fresh hoodie, some jeans, and some undies, then hurry to the bathroom for a quick shower. A few minutes later, I rush back to my laptop while I brush my teeth, only to see that Frank is still running the latest batch of recordings I gave him.

The doorbell chimes and I let out a heavy sigh, then go back to the sink to rinse and spit while the house fills with the sounds of hungry humans. By the time I get downstairs, I see my sister, Lucia, her husband Vinnie, and their two kids, Matteo and Camilla, peeling off their jackets. My grandparents and Zia Fernanda must have arrived at the same time because they’re all squeezed into the front entry.

“There’s my girl!” my nonno says, holding out his arms for a hug. Nonno is a teeny, tiny, adorable old bald man. Like, so tiny, I’m pretty sure I could pick him up and carry him around for hours. He’s also the one person in my family who is completely interested in my job. He’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, even though he never got a chance to go to school. If life had dealt him a different hand, he definitely could’ve been running NASA by the time he was forty.

I give him a quick hug, then hug my nonna (who insists on being called Grandma because she says a nonna is an old woman). The truth is, it’s not the label that makes her old, it’s the blue, tightly-permed hair she’s been sporting since the nineties. Giving her a kiss on the cheek, I say, “Hi, Grandma. You look as young and beautiful as ever.”

She wheezes out a chuckle and pats my cheek. After a second of staring at me, her face grows serious. “You look like hell. What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“You’re not sick, are you?” Lucia says, adjusting her bra under her fitted sweater. “We just got over a month of head colds at our place. We don’t need anything new.”

“No, I’m fine,” I tell her. “Totally healthy.”

Lucia screws up her face. “Then why do you look so bad?”

Zia Fernanda steps closer to examine me. “She’s right. You look terrible. When’s the last time you had a hair mask?” (Zia has been a hairdresser for forty years, and she believes there’s no problem that can’t be fixed with a good hair mask.)

“Never, but I’m fine, seriously. I haven’t had time to worry about my looks because I’m under a tight deadline at work,” I tell them, glancing at my niece who is staring up at me dumbfounded that her auntie could look so bad. I give her a wink. “Zia’s got more important things to do than worry about her makeup right now.”

“What? Trying to find aliens all day and night?” Vinnie asks. “You should try finding a man instead.” He barks out a laugh at his own joke, and when he’s done, he clicks his teeth and shakes his head at me. “Although it’s getting a little late already, isn’t it?”

“Vinnie!” Lucia snaps. “It is not too late for Allie to find love.”

I’m about to thank her when she adds, “It is getting a little late for babies though. Have you made an appointment at that egg freezing place I told you about? Because you better get on it.”

“There’s a place to freeze eggs?” Camilla asks her mom. “Why can’t you just put them in Nonna’s freezer?”

All the adults in the room burst out laughing (except me) while Camilla screws up her adorable face in confusion. My sister pats her on the shoulder. “Not the eggs you eat, baby. It’s a different kind of egg.”

She starts for the kitchen while Camilla follows. “What kind of egg?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Matteo, show Zia your science project,” Vinnie says, patting his son on the back of his head. He grins at me. “You gotta see this, Allie. He’s been working real hard on it.”

Matteo holds up his iPad with a wide smile that displays his missing front teeth. God, he’s a cute kid. “Can I show it to you?”

“Absolutely. I’d love to see it,” I tell him, crouching down next to him as he flips open the case.

He presses one of the icons and a picture of a massive, hairy spider fills the screen.

I immediately gag, then try to scramble away, but because I’m crouching, I wind up knocking myself off balance and fall on my ass before gagging twice more.

Vinnie bursts out laughing, and high fives Matteo. “You got her so good!”

Matteo beams down at me, then laughs like crazy. “Gotcha, Zia!”

He suddenly looks a lot less adorable to me.

I stand slowly, reminding myself that my nephew doesn’t know any better, especially because his asshole dad put him up to it. “You sure did.”

“What’s so funny?” my sister calls from the kitchen. She pokes her head out. “You didn’t play the spider trick on Zia, did you?”

Vinnie, who now has tears streaming down his face while he laughs, nods. “The gagging! Hahahaha! It never gets old.”

“Doesn’t it?” I glare at him, my words coming out crisp.

“Boys! That’s not nice. Zia has a real phobia,” Lucia calls to them. “Sorry about that, sis.”

She may be sorry, but it’s not like she’s going to do anything to stop them in the future. I glance at my watch. Okay, Allie, you can do this for another hour and a half. Then you can sneak back upstairs, barricade the door, and get back to work.

The next twenty minutes are a blur of activity as we set the dining room table for the adults and the one in the kitchen for the kids. More cousins, aunts, and uncles arrive, and soon, it’s a packed, noisy house. I crack open the window in the dining room to let some fresh air in as my mom puts the finishing touches on the three-course meal. First comes gnocchi in a stewed meat sauce, served with fresh baguettes, next will be the salad and roasted chicken, followed by dessert (which tonight will be raspberry and lemon polenta cake that my dad’s sister, Zia Francesca, made). My stomach growls as I carry one of the serving bowls of gnocchi to the table. As irritated as I am with the stupid spider prank and tonight’s topics of conversation (my lack of a man, my eggs that are in dire need of freezing, and how awful I look), I am definitely excited to dig into this dinner.

We’re just sitting down when my phone rings. My dad shoots me a look while I pull it out of my pocket. “Sorry about that. I forgot to silence it.”

Keenan’s name is flashing across the screen. I stare at it, my heart picking up its pace a little. My boss has never called me after hours. Not one time in over ten years. Standing, I excuse myself. Ignoring my mother’s protests about it being ‘Sunday supper,’ I hurry to my dad’s den and shut the door. “Hello?”

“Allegra, I’m glad I caught you,” Keenan says. “I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Good. I wanted to talk to you about a new development that’s just come up. It’s rather exciting, actually.”

“Okay,” I say, wondering what could be so important that it couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what’s so important that it couldn’t wait for tomorrow.” Keenan pauses for a second, then says, “I know you’re probably quite disappointed about me choosing Chad, so I wanted to give you some exciting news. I’ve just got word that Galaxy Studios is making a movie about us. Well, not us exactly. It’s about David Peck Todd.”

“Like a documentary?”

“No, a major motion picture. And the exciting bit is that they’ve offered to donate a hundred thousand dollars to our team.”

“Wow, that is exciting news,” I answer, wondering what the hell this has to do with me.

“You’re probably wondering what this has to do with you.”

“Yeah, a little.”

“They’re sending an actor to come shadow one of our radio astronomers, and I thought that since you’re not going to present at the conference, it would make the most sense to have him follow you around,” Keenan says.

Oh, hell to the no. Not doing it.“One could also say that because Chad is prepared for the conference, he has a lot more time than I do.”

“The thing is, Chad may have overstated how prepared he is. He’s still got some things to wrap up to be ready in time. More importantly, this situation requires someone with a certain skill set that not everyone else on the team possesses.”

He means tact. “Uh-huh,” I say, just as my niece, Camilla, walks into the room, her face covered in red sauce.

I blow her a kiss, then gesture for her to leave the room, but she just stands there and whispers, “Zia, can I have your gnocchi?”

I shake my head and mouth no at her. I love my niece, but giving up my portion of homemade gnocchi? I don’t think so.

Keenan’s saying something about how giving and patient I am while Camilla drops to her knees and holds her hands to her chest like she’s praying. “Puleeeaaaase, Zia. I’m a growing girl.”

“What’s that sound?” Keenan asks.

“Nothing, my niece is asking me a question,” I answer, pursing my lips at her and snapping my fingers. I gesture for her to leave, only to have her pull her bottom lip out in her best attempt at looking pathetic. “Fine,” I hiss, knowing she’s not going to give up.

Immediately she springs to action, running out of the room, leaving the door open behind her.

I walk over and shut it just as I hear my grandma say, “Where the hell did she go, anyway? It’s dinner time!”

“Sorry about that. We’ve got company this evening,” I tell him.

“Don’t apologize, I know I interrupted your weekend. I just didn’t want to blindside you with this when you come in tomorrow morning. I thought it better to give you time to absorb the news.”

I plunk myself on my dad’s old plaid armchair, rocking back and forth a bit. “I appreciate that, Keenan.”

“Well, I appreciate all your hard work, Allie. You’re definitely a team player and I was hoping that being able to work with Hudson Finch would offset your disappointment about the conference.”

“Sorry, who did you say?”

“Hudson Finch. He’s the one who will be shadowing you.”

My face immediately grows hot. My heart pounds. Hudson Freaking Finch?

“Have you heard of him?”

“Yup,” I squeak, unable to get a full breath of air.

“Yes, he’s got quite the star power, doesn’t he?” Keenan asks. “And as I was saying, the publicity we’ll get from this could draw in a lot of donations. It’s a huge win for the team, so we need to put our best foot forward to maximize this opportunity.”

“Right, definitely,” I answer, my stomach growling again.

“I imagine trying to teach him everything you can about astronomy in a short six weeks is going to be rather intense.”

Intense? I get a mental image of me standing next to him in lab coats for some reason, even though we never wear them, and him tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. Is he going to kiss me in this ridiculous fantasy? No, he isn’t. And even if he did, it would only be because he wants to use me and lose me. I’m about to tell Keenan I can’t do it, but he starts talking again before I can think of a good excuse. “I really appreciate you taking this on, Allie. In fact, I’ll make sure some of the studio’s donation goes directly into your project.”

This is a done deal, isn’t it? Chad’s going to get to speak in Zurich, Lando’s going to beat me to the punch, and I’m going to end up babysitting a celebrity for six weeks, only to have all my dreams go up in smoke. Unless … what if he’s not going to be here until after I get Frank working?

“Um, when does Mr. Finch arrive?”

“Tomorrow morning at eleven.”

My shoulders drop. “Oh.”

“Listen, Allie, I want you to know that you’ll be at the top of the list for the next summit.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” No, I don’t. Not even a bit.

“I’ll let you get back to your company. I’m going to email the team now with the big news.”

“Awesome.”

“See you tomorrow, Allegra, and thanks again!”

Gwen

Is the family gone?

Me

Finally, yes.

Gwen

I read Keenan’s email. Do you want to talk about it?

I dial her number, relief washing over me that I can talk to my bestie. She picks up on the first ring. “Can you believe this?”

“No, this is the worst thing ever.”

“I was worried you’d be upset.” In the background, I hear the hum of her hot tub motor. Lucky bitch. Sitting in her boyfriend’s hot tub under the stars while I’m hunched over my laptop in my cramped childhood bedroom.

“I’m more than upset. I’m furious. Not only am I stuck babysitting, but did you see Keenan’s latest email? The thing about moving you out of our office to make room for Hudson? I can’t not work next to my bestie for six whole weeks. That’s ridiculous.”

“Agreed. I’m none-too-pleased,” Gwen says. “I’m going to have to share with Edward. He mutters to himself non-stop. It’s going to drive me insane.”

Letting out a groan, I say, “This is the worst. I’ve spent the last eighteen months killing myself to get this done and just when I’m so close, I’m about to have a man-sized roadblock put in my way.”

“A super-hot, famous, man-sized roadblock,” she points out.

“Yeah, a super-hot, famous, dates-super-models-not-nerds distraction who’s going to ruin my life and let Lando the Liar win again,” I say, squinting at my screen while I wait for Frank to finish analyzing the recordings. “I can’t let that happen, Gwen. I just can’t. I’m in an all-out battle of good versus evil, and good has to win this time. If not, I am seriously going to lose my faith in humanity and the Universe.”

“Good to know you’re not putting too much pressure on yourself.”

“Haha, seriously. He should be following Chad around. I mean, I get that he has no tact and he’s a terrible teacher and should basically never be around other humans, but, other than that, he’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, when you put it that way, it’s a complete mystery why Keenan chose you.”

I let out a huge sigh, all my fear and frustration bubbling up inside of me. “Oh, fuck, Gwen. This sucks so hard. I’m going to waste precious hours that I don’t have trying to tutor a man on a topic he couldn’t care less about. He’s going to pretend to listen, then go back to Hollywood, and I’ll have been screwed out of my chance to prove once and for all that I’m way fucking smarter than he-who-washes-his-penis-in-the-sink.”

“Maybe you can do both. Tutor him and finish your project. A lot of the time, you’re just waiting for Frank to analyze the next batch of recordings,” she says, her words almost getting lost in the sound of the hot tub bubbles. “And besides, what if Hudson turns out to be a big help?”

“Hudson Finch? The guy who once showed up to a table reading so high he couldn’t actually read?”

“I don’t even believe that story,” she says. “Besides, you never know. Maybe he’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for. Or maybe, he’ll bring a fresh perspective that’ll help crack this whole thing open.”

“Or maybe he’ll distract me for six weeks straight and cause my only real dream to wither on the vine and die.” I close my tired eyes, then say, “Sorry, I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but at the moment, I’m a total mess. I’m disappointed and frustrated and exhausted. Earlier today my mother actually told me I looked like I smelled bad.’”

“What? How is that even a thing?”

“Right? Although, at the time I really did reek.”

“Oh sweetie, I hate how hard you’ve been pushing yourself to get this done.”

“It’ll all be worth it if I can just get it to work, but that’s not looking too likely right now.”

“Listen, I know you won’t want to hear this, but Virgil did offer to help you, and he’s?—”

“No, thank you.”

“Al, I totally understand why you don’t want to accept help. I get it. Really. What The Liar did was super shitty. But we’ve known Virgil for ten years. He’s not a glory-seeker. He’s not the kind of guy who will take the credit for your work. He just isn’t.”

I let out a long sigh. “I know this doesn’t make any sense to you, Gwen. I get it. I seem like a crazy person, but I’m not. I’ve been scorched once and I am never letting that happen again.”

“But what if all you need is a little tiny bit of help from a trusted coworker and all your career dreams will come true?”

“That would feel like cheating,” I say, my gut tightening at the thought of bringing someone in on my research.

“It’s not cheating. Everyone needs help once in a while.”

“All the greats work alone—Einstein, Goddard...”

“Not true,” Gwen says. “Einstein was constantly boring his wife with all his ideas, and Goddard only worked alone because he was so far ahead of his time that the other yahoo scientists were constantly shit-talking his theories on spaceflight. But I bet if he had had another physicist who said, ‘Hey Bob, I heard you’re having a little trouble with that multi-stage rocket you’re building, let me have a looksee,’ he would have been more than happy to show him.”

“Come on, nobody called him Bob.”

“You don’t know that.”

She’s right. I don’t. “And you don’t know that he would’ve accepted help.”

“He most definitely would’ve because the work was far more important to him than his reputation.”

“Well, I’m not Robert Goddard, okay? I’m Allie Cammareri, woman on a mission. And I refuse to let some man take credit for my work ever again. And yeah, I know kindly old Virgil isn’t going to try to take credit for it. But you know the truth? He’ll get it anyway because in my acceptance speech at the National Space Society”s Space Pioneer Awards, I’d have to mention him, and the rest of the dudes out there will be all, ‘Oh, we knew a man had to be behind this.’”

“Okkaaayyy...” Gwen says, her tone conveying how crazy she clearly thinks I am.

“You know what? I hear it. I do. I sound insane,” I admit. “But honestly, Gwen, I’m about as sane as they come. I started this whole thing alone and I’m going to finish it alone. And I’m going to do it ahead of Lando and his team of hacks. And I’m going to do a much better job, too.”

“In that case, I’d better let you go so you can get back to work.”

“Yeah, I really need to concentrate because as of tomorrow morning, my life is going to get a whole lot more complicated.”

We say goodbye, then I end the call and sit back in my chair with a long sigh. The next six weeks of my life are going to be hell. Not just because I’m so stressed out I could cry. Not just because my niece ate all my gnocchi or because my biggest dream feels like it’s about to slip through my fingers like dust on the moon. It’s because I’m going to spend the next six weeks in the same room as one of the hottest men alive (and not just according to me—according to People Magazine), and he isn’t going to so much as notice I’m there.

That’s the cold, hard truth. And there is really no getting around it.