Chapter 4
ENZO
She’s a virgin.
She’s looking for a random man to deflower her.
She wants it to happen soon.
The note had fluttered from my stiff fingers and blown away on a cold breeze too fast for me to catch it.
I don’t know why it bothers me. I don’t even know this woman’s name, and I’m positive she’s a pain in my ass. The situation is also none of my business. If she loses her virginity to a random person she doesn’t intend to see again, she’ll be no different from most people.
For me, it was Edie Wheeler at sleepaway summer camp when I was sixteen. We fucked on the ground behind a tree. It lasted for four minutes, and we got covered in poison ivy, so it wasn’t a magical experience I’ll take to my grave. The memory of the poison ivy rash lasted longer.
It’s just…
I don’t like Devil Woman’s plan.
Maybe it’s because I was raised to feel protective of women, and I know there are plenty of predators out there who’d take advantage of an innocent woman’s offer.
Or, maybe, like Aria would say, I have an impulse to control everyone.
I like the situation even less because every single person here in the crowd at Hidden Italy—which is much sparser than I’d hoped—has been whispering about Santa Speed Dating, and whether the women will be asked to wear costumes too.
Have I been imagining what Devil Woman would look like dressed up in a little red outfit fringed with white?
God, I can’t seem to stop.
Like I said, my blood’s been running hot, in more ways than one.
I’ve been asked five times what else we have planned for tonight, as if what we’re offering isn’t exciting enough given what’s been advertised next door.
While I need to focus on amping up the party, I can’t stop thinking about tomorrow’s event at the café either.
Something tells me Devil Woman is the reason for the Santa Speed Dating plan.
Like maybe the whole event was organized so she could have a roomful of men to choose from.
None of my business.
Except…she made it my business. Because this was supposed to be a big night for Hidden Italy, dammit.
The people here shouldn’t be gossiping about what Love at First Sip is planning for tomorrow.
They shouldn’t be gossiping about who’s going and what they’re going to wear.
But they are. They’re standing in little clusters, eating our food, drinking our drinks, and talking about them.
“What’s up with you?” Giovanni asks, nudging my shoulder. “You look even more dissatisfied than usual.”
I grunt in response, watching as Nico holds out a plate to Mayor Locke, offering him what must be his fifth sample of our “famous” Italian sandwich. Or at least that’s what it says on the placard on the tray. My grandmother is standing right next to him, watching.
“Uh, no, thank you,” Mayor Locke says as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet. He’s several feet away from me, standing by the wall and surveying the lukewarm crowd.
“You don’t like it?” Nonna asks, her tone hostile. She’s been downing grappa all evening, but she’s still salty. She dressed all in black tonight—not unusual for her, but she told me she’s mourning my manhood, which I gave up to the mayor by begging to host this event.
So be it.
She agreed to tear off the number for the Advent calendar countdown. So she can give me as much shit about it as she wants.
“You think there’s something wrong with my grandson’s cooking?” she asks the mayor.
He sighs wearily, probably wishing he’d asked for Will after all. “It’s perfect, Francesca.” He glances around, taking in the Christmas tree, the huge bowl of roasted chestnuts, and all of the hired students circulating with trays of samples.
“But is it moist?” Giovanni asks, just to cause trouble.
That’s Giovanni for you. He’s the shit stirrer of our family. Aria even gave him a “Chief Shit Stirrer” plaque for his place a couple of Christmases ago.
“Just the man I need,” I say, stepping forward and putting an arm around the mayor’s shoulders. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
My grandmother makes an annoyed grunt. The mayor looks like he’s liable to kiss me, however, and I lead him away to a mostly quiet corner.
“This event was on the town calendar, wasn’t it?” I ask, gesturing to the thinner-than-expected crowd. “Have the people of Hideaway Harbor stopped caring about Christmas?”
He sighs, glancing over at his pretty blonde wife, Erica, who’s on her second limoncello cocktail.
She’s whispering to a woman I don’t recognize, and I’d bet the contents of my bank account it has something to do with Love at First Sip, especially since Eileen and Erica are close friends.
“Well,” he glances back to me, “I’m not happy about it either, to tell you the truth.
There’s another big event tonight, a bachelor auction at Hook, Wine, and Sinker, and it’s drawn people away. ”
My stomach sinks. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You didn’t think to mention this when I asked about December 1st?”
He gives me a glare that suggests he remembers what I looked like in the suspenders Nonna made me wear to Easter mass when I was a kid. “I didn’t know about it when we had lunch.”
My mind shifts to Devil Woman. She knows about this. She was baiting me about it earlier. Well played.
But the game’s not over…
I return my focus to the mayor.
“If you’d known about it then, you would have wanted to do the calendar reveal at Hook, Wine, and Sinker,” I infer.
The mayor shifts uncomfortably again.
My grandmother whispers something to an awkward kid holding yet another sample tray, and he beelines toward us with a forced smile. “Sir, would you like another sample of the Italian sub?”
Mayor Locke gives me a long, pointed stare before declining the sample.
“I’m going to turn this around,” I tell him. “You wait.”
“It’s a very pleasant party,” he tells me easily, waving around.
But I notice none of his several children came, and more than half the people here would qualify for a senior citizen discount at the local restaurants.
“And more people will probably wander in off the street if they hear the music,” the mayor continues. “You don’t need to do anything.”
It’s like he’s never met me.
“It’s no problem,” I say, my mind scrambling, because I’m a fixer. I see a problem, and I come up with a solution, even if I have to use a bulldozer to make it happen. I’m going to turn this thing around, whatever it takes. “Excuse me, sir. We’re about to turn it up.”
I step away and hunt down Giovanni, pulling him away for a private talk.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask.
He grins at me. “That it would be nice to be in Greece or South Carolina right about now?”
I laugh, because that was, undeniably, a good one. “What else…?”
“This party is a bit…” He teeters his hand from side to side.
“No shit. Apparently there’s a bachelor auction event at Hook, Wine, and Sinker.
” I gesture in the direction of the Sip.
“And then there’s the Santa Speed Dating thing at the Sip tomorrow night.
That’s why we’ve barely got anyone under fifty.
They all want this dating shit. I ran into that woman who works for Eileen earlier, and she definitely knew about the Hook, Wine, and Sinker auction. ”
“You mean the hot barista who ripped you a new asshole?”
I give him a look I’m really hoping will shut him up. “She knew,” I say, “and she didn’t warn me.”
“Why would she?” he replies with a laugh. “She hates you.”
“And she just started a war.”
He rolls his eyes. “Ah, here we go. Don’t we have enough Cafiero grudges?”
“We’re going to make this a night people are talking about for months, Giovanni. You mark my words. It’s not over yet. We’re going to pull something big out of our pockets tonight. Something to compete with that auction and Santa Speed Dating.”
He shakes his head, his lip curling with amusement. “Good luck. That’s not gonna happen unless you’ve got Amanda Willis hiding in your pocket.”
Ah yes, Amanda Willis. The celebrity my sister is obsessed with, who is reportedly spending the holiday season tucked away in Hideaway Harbor.
Probably because she’s been all over the tabloids recently after coming out as gay.
I figure it’s nobody’s business who she wants to date.
Her romantic life is hardly a matter for public scrutiny or a cause for heightened notoriety.
But there’s no denying her star power, whatever the reason for it.
If she were here, people would come in just to meet her.
She’s a no-show, though, just like most of the town.
Maybe she figures there’s no point searching out Italian food in a town known for its lobster and Finnish roots. Maybe that’s the real reason so few people bothered to come tonight.
“Initial thoughts?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I say we don’t bother trying to charm people. We’ll have Nonna unveil the number, bring out the panettone, and send everyone packing. No need to debase ourselves any more than we already have. We’ll call it a wash and try something else.”
But a thought clicks into place, and I snap my fingers, grinning at him. “You absolute genius.”
He grins, his eyes the same warm, liquid brown my nonno’s were. “While I enjoy being called a genius, I’m not sure I can lay claim to it this time.”
“That’s it.” I give his arm a shove. “We’re going to debase ourselves.
We’ll do our own bachelor auction here. You, me, and Nico.
But it won’t be some stodgy, black-tie event.
We’ll pour more drinks and turn up the music.
It’ll be fun. We can donate the money to Toys for Tots.
The publicity will be great for the shop. ”
He gives me a long look. “You want me to strip my shirt off and hold a big log of salami up against my pants so you can take photos for a calendar while you’re at it?”
“Stop giving me good ideas. We don’t have time for all of them.”