Chapter 5
Five
LUCA
I step out onto the sidewalk in front of Little Italy and take a deep breath of the late September air. It’s sunny and warm, but there is a hint of wood smoke in the air. The trees are just starting to change color. I love this time of year, and oddly, after my exchange with Marissa, I feel pretty good. There is something about her that feels so familiar. According to her, it’s because our families go way back. As rivals. But I swear I’ve never laid eyes on her before.
The door to the restaurant bangs open behind me, and I turn back to see who has come out. Marissa stands there in the Fall sunlight, looking particularly lovely in her work apron, with her curly black hair going in every direction as the wind lifts it and sets it dancing. There is something familiar about her. I keep coming back to this fact. It’s like there is something tugging at the back of my brain, like something that I just can’t remember.
“Yes?” I say.
She stops a few feet away from me, opening and closing her hands into fists. Even though I think she’s angry with me, she doesn’t look mad. Mostly she just looks sad and frustrated.
“You aren’t serious, are you?” she asks.
“About what? The food poisoning?” I take a step back toward her.
“Yes, the food poisoning,” she repeats, the irritation evident in her tone.
“I was just delivering the message,” I reply. If I’m honest, I think my father is being absurd. For someone to sabotage our restaurant would take a lot of planning and effort. Little Italy just catered a massive event a few days ago. It seems highly unlikely that they also had the time to carry out some food poisoning scheme.
“I’m sorry that your restaurant isn’t good enough not to have cases of food poisoning, but what evidence do you have that it’s us?” she asks.
I hold my hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I am just delivering a message from my father.”
“I could tell you a thing or two to take back to your father,” Marissa snaps. Then she takes a deep breath and I can see her struggle to compose herself. “But I won’t, because unlike your family, I was taught not to be rude. Even to competitors.”
“Now wait a second,” I say. “That actually is pretty rude.”
“No, it’s not,” Marissa says, annoyance flashing in her eyes again.
“Actually, it is,” I say. “Just because you do it in a backhanded way, doesn’t mean that you aren’t being rude.”
“I’m sorry,” Marissa says in a hiss of breath. “I just can’t deal with any more drama about this place.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. I wasn’t expecting that response. As she catches my expression, something in her face changes. Then she gasps. “Oh my goodness,” she says.
“What?” This is definitely not where I thought that this conversation was going. She almost looks like she’s seen a ghost. I never knew what that expression meant before, but now, suddenly, I do.
“Lou?” Marissa says with just enough incredulity in her voice that I can tell she’s possibly hoping it isn’t true.
As soon as she says the name, the full weight of recognition hits me. “Mari?” I reply, and then burst out laughing. I can’t help myself. The situation is so absurd. A moment later, Marissa joins me. “Why did you give me a fake name?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” she says. “I don’t know. I just didn’t want to spoil the moment with full reality.”
“Fair enough,” I reply.
We stand there on the sidewalk staring at each other, and I wonder what she’s feeling. This moment of recognition has set off a whole bunch of feelings inside of me that I’m not sure how to deal with. I honestly want to take a step forward and kiss her, but thinking about my family holds me back. Just because I find her attractive doesn’t mean that I want to betray my family for her.
But it’s more than that. I don’t just find her attractive, I feel a connection to her. Deeper than any I have ever felt with another woman, and that was before I even knew her real name. That has to mean something. One second these feelings are winning out, and then the next I think about how angry my father looked, as he told us about the food poisoning accusations. We’ve dealt with things like this in the past, and it doesn’t look good that we’re dealing with them again. I can’t hurt my family, so I know what the only solution is.
“It’s not going to be a popular realization that the two of us have already met,” I say.
Marissa nods in agreement, sending her curls flying in every direction possible. The motion makes her look even more beautiful than before. “I agree,” she says. “No one actually needs to know about the ball. That’s the beauty of masks. We get to remain anonymous.”
“Right, we’ll just never mention this to anyone,” I say. “That shouldn’t be too hard to do.”
We look at each other, and at that moment, I can tell that she has her doubts about my statement, just like I do. I know that I’m lying to myself. This won’t be easy in any regard. As long as I don’t have to be anywhere near Marissa, I think I should be able to keep my feelings stuffed down and hidden away. It will be a lot harder to deal with these feelings if I keep seeing her.
“That sounds like the best plan,” Marissa says, but I think that I can hear a hint of regret in her voice. Then she continues, “But my family hasn’t done anything wrong, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t spread rumors like that around.”
And with that, Marissa turns and hurries back into Little Italy , leaving me standing on the sidewalk alone, thinking that I’d still like to kiss her.