“You sure about that? Because your voice always changes when you talk about her.”
“You know what—remind me never to hire you as my lawyer because you’re not as good at reading people as you think you are. My new girlfriend’s name is Alana. She lives in New York.” He grins. “She’s a model. So hot.”
I roll my eyes. “That sounds promising.”
“She’s not like the other ones—this one’s really cool. I mean, not cool but smart. Not smart like Birdie, but she’s not dumb.”
“Uh-huh. You bringing her to the wedding?”
“Nah. She goes to the Bahamas every year for New Year’s with her friends. We’re both just busy with work.”
“Right. She lives in New York. And you live in LA and you’re always working in Vancouver.”
He lowers his voice and turns his back to the kitchen so the rest of our family can’t hear him. “I haven’t actually met her in person yet.”
“I knew it.”
“She slid into my DMs on Instagram, and we’ve been texting and FaceTiming.” He waggles his eyebrows, so I know he means he’s seen her naked. “For over a month now.”
“You’ve had FaceTime sex, is what you’re saying?”
“Nope. I mean, she’s sent me pictures of her naked, of course.”
“Of course.”
“But she doesn’t want to do any sex stuff until we actually meet. She’s old-fashioned that way. It’s sweet. Not sweet like Birdie, but she’s polite. Different. Not quirky like Birdie. But I like her.”
I pat him on the shoulder. “That’s adorable.”
“Welp. As always, I aspire to be like you, bro. I’ll get me a good woman, and then hopefully I can play a lawyer on TV one day and get paid even more than you do.”
He’s not kidding. He has always wanted to be like me, get himself a good woman, and play a lawyer or a doctor on TV. Why he keeps dating models and starlets, I’ll never understand. But everything feels right in the world with about nine ounces of Guinness entering my bloodstream, a nice fire burning in the fireplace, and my current favorite brother by my side.
And then I’m reminded of what a cold, shitty world it had been for me for most of the year when the front door opens, and my former closest brother and the woman I once thought I’d marry walk through it.
Twenty-Two
Maddie
I WISH GRANDMA GOT RUN OVER BY A REINDEER
So. Much. Seafood. It smells like an Italian aquarium in the Cannavale kitchen, and Declan was not kidding about his nonna not liking me.
Mamie is surreptitiously pouring whiskey into a glass of Coke behind the matriarch’s back, and Nonna is eyeing me suspiciously after being told that I’m Declan’s new girlfriend.
“Oh yeah?” is all she says, frowning. She looks like a miniature Robert De Niro in drag—but kinda pretty! I guess the festive Christmas apron that says Baking Spirits Bright is being worn ironically. “Hmph.” She goes back to stirring a cauldron of fish broth.
“It’s very nice to meet you…”
“Francesca,” Mamie tells me since Nonna does not offer her name.
“Francesca. That’s a beautiful name. Declan’s told me so much about you.”
She glances back at me while adding fresh basil, salt, and pepper to the broth. “This is what you are wearing to my dinner?” She shakes her head, frowning even more intensely. “Not smart. Or maybe you don’ wanna eat my food?”
Everyone else is wearing either sweats or oversized trousers, and yeah, I should have listened to my hot fake boyfriend. “Oh, I very much plan to eat your food, Mrs. Cannavale. Declan did tell me to change what I was wearing, but I…” No use finishing that sentence since she isn’t paying any attention to me. She’s too busy pouring mussels and clams into the fish broth.
Mamie comes over to hand me the Jameson and Coke, which I gulp down immediately. God bless her, she was not stingy with the whiskey. She takes the gift bag from me and holds it up to show Nonna. “Look what Maddie brought you. A gift from her hotel!”
“Open for me,” she mumbles as she pours oil into a huge saucepan.
Mamie pulls out the shot glass with the Cleveland skyline etched onto it. “Cute, right? It’s Cleveland. Your favorite city after Sicily.”
Nonna eyes it warily. “Hmph.” She flicks her hand in the air. “Put away somewhere. I got no time for it.”
Mamie turns and rolls her eyes at me, grinning impishly. “She means thank you for being sooooo thoughtful.” She pops the shot glass back into the bag and places it on a chair by the kitchen table because every inch of the counters and tables in here are covered with ingredients and plates and platters and baskets of food.
Guess I should just start listening to Declan. He was right about the pants, and he was right about his parents and nonna not caring if I bring them gifts or not. But I had to do something. Especially if some woman who’s dated two Cannavale sons is going to be here tonight.
He said he met her in college, and they were on and off for a decade. A decade. I wonder if he had sex with her in this house. I wonder how much he still thinks about her. All this time I’ve known him, he’s probably been in a bad mood because he was upset about her. I hate that I didn’t know that. Or maybe I hate her for doing this to him. Out of loyalty. Because I’m his assistant. And it’s my job to be loyal to him.
Welp. So much for resisting my boss! As if seeing him dance around naked to a seventies pop song wasn’t enough—watching him with his niece made my ovaries throb, and I don’t know if my “No Sleepovers” rule is going to prevent the rest of me from falling for him. Hopefully he’ll go back to being an insufferable ass when we get back to work. Hopefully I’m only staring at the kitchen table,
