Page 32 of The Great Dating Fake Off
I shuffle sideways, putting as much distance between me and Nora as humanly possible. “Thank you, Dr. Mazzelli. Sorry—you said you prefer Gloria. Thank you, Gloria.”
Smooth.
“Do you need a break before we start the next match to check on Alessia?” she asks.
“Of course. I was just going to suggest that.” I jog toward the bench and grab my phone.
A text message from Alessia waits for me.
Catering emergency, carry on without me. Tell them I’m sick, I don’t want Enzo and Rosalina to think there’s a dinner problem.
I almost ask if there is a dinner problem—an unfortunate visual of an octopus comes to mind—but shoot her a thumbs-up emoji instead and share a very convincing lie about her stomach ache with the group.
As long as 33 percent of them believe it, I’ve done my job.
“Hazards of a buffet breakfast,” Gloria says. “Let’s keep going.”
Nora and I win the next game, which secures us the win for the entire match.
I lift my hand to high-five her and drop it just as fast, overthinking the simple touch. Would Gloria find it disrespectful?
Jesus, I’m stressing about a damn high five. My chances of getting through this week when Nora is around are looking worse by the minute.
Chapter Ten
Nora
The sun funnels heat into the back of my neck as Benji and I migrate toward the chipper activities coordinator to inform her of our finished match.
Sebastian and Gloria follow a foot behind as she chatters about her residency experience. Sebastian seems enamored by all things doctor and asks a lot of good questions.
I’m definitely not still eavesdropping when Benji grabs me above the elbow and pulls me out of earshot, settling near the wooden bench holding our stuff. “I’m going to go back to the room, drug myself into a stupor, and nap until I’m supposed to meet my grandfather. He asked me to ride with him to the airport to pick up one of his brothers. Did you want to tag along?”
I wave this off. “No, no. I don’t want to intrude. I’m happy you two are getting quality time.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding.”
“Not to you, maybe. But Santino may want to catch up with you without me there.” I cut him off as he tries to protest. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll just stay here and finish the tournament. It’d probably mess things up if I bailed, since my team won.”
My team, also known as me and the walking Adidas ad who has officially turned pickleball into a hot dude sport. His muscles bunch and flex in the most alluring way as he works the court. If the ladies out here saw him shirtless like I did in the steam room last night, they’d fall all over themselves—
“My dad is about three seconds away from shanking Enzo’s dad,” Benji notes. “Look at them.”
We turn toward the men who are elbowing each other as they wait for their next game to start. Giuseppe’s face is beet red. Whether that’s from the sun or the restraint of not putting Vinny in a sleeper hold is anyone’s guess.
“So yeah,” he continues, “I’d say this tournament has bigger threats than your departure.” He wipes his brow with the back of his hand. “Unless you want to stay?”
I chew the inside of my cheek. If I’m honest, the idea of going back to our room alone sounds depressing. The weather is the kind of beautiful that illuminates why rich doctors and businesspeople have dragged their kids and extended families out of the city to vacation here every summer for decades. There’s an elemental magic in the air, the sway of the trees an ancient song.
Or maybe it’s just my blood singing thanks to all the caffeine I’ve had today. I inhaled my iced coffee so fast this morning the cubes didn’t even have time to sweat.
Either way, I can’t bring myself to quit. My partner has Big Competitor Energy and I don’t want to let him down.
“I think I’ll keep playing.” I scuff the toe of my sneaker against the ground. “Should you check in with Gloria about leaving, since she’ll have to find a new teammate?”
“Yeah, I’ll— Wait, where is she going?”
Gloria’s form grows smaller as she waltzes down a path in the direction of The Sapling Spa.
