Page 9 of The Great Dating Fake Off
I cut across the yard toward Alessia and El, who are huddled up and whispering next to Alessia’s car in the driveway. Nella follows and circles the vehicle, inspecting the tires.
I jab my thumb sideways. “What’s the truck doing here, El? I thought we were all riding together in Alessia’s car.”
Alessia cracks her knuckles one at a time. The nervous move is at odds with her upbeat tone. “Oh, did I not tell you I convinced Enzo to hire Eloise’s catering company? Baby’s first destination event!”
The poor girl is about to work her ass off while the rest of us vacation. “I didn’t even know that possibility was on the table.”
Eloise eyes her truck affectionately. “Yes. In my girlfriend’s infinite brilliance, she convinced her brother that the staff at the Foxfire Lodge can’t be trusted to handle the unique, seafood-intensive menu requirements of a traditional Italian-Catholic wedding and that they should hire my company. I’m going to make bank. Though I will have to cook some weird shit in the next two weeks, which dampens my enthusiasm a little.”
“Follow my recipes exactly and you’ll have no problem whatsoever,” Nella insists. “Pending you have high quality ingredients. You can’t use just any ol’ octopus or squid. Or eel, especially.”
“Eel?” My lips turn down of their own volition. I really should’ve asked more questions when I RSVP’d to this wedding.
Alessia lays a hand on her stomach, face twisted in disgust. She is very much not in the food business and happens to be the pickiest eater I know. “And now I’m nauseous.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make you a special plate for every meal,” Eloise offers. “Only the finest buttered pasta for my lady.”
Alessia pulls her into a lingering hug, complete with neck nuzzling. “And that is why I conned the bride and groom into hiring you. So I could get the special girlfriend menu.”
Leaving them to their lovey-dovey moment, I steal back my suitcase from Alessia’s side. As I toss it into the back of her SUV alongside four giant suitcases and two garment bags, it occurs to me that maybe Nella had a point about my Spartan packing.
“Oye, Mazzelli!” I slam the trunk shut and hook a right around the car to rejoin the group. “How formal is this wedding, anyway? I’m not sure I packed enough of the right stuff.”
“You didn’t,” Nella barbs.
Alessia shrugs this off. “None of the clothing any of us brought will be good enough for my snobby family, so we might as well be comfortable, right? Can’t believe he even invited them all.”
“Yes, it’s a huge surprise your brother invited your family to his wedding,” I deadpan. “But surely your dad and whoever else comes will play nice at an event this important?”
Alessia snorts. “No. And we will all be emotionally anemic by the end of the week.”
I nod toward Eloise. “Don’t let her scare you too much. Her family is terrifying, but they’ll be on their best behavior. This will be your first time meeting the family, right?” I chip her shoulder with a closed fist. “Big step.”
Eloise moves her bangs out of her eyes, and then proceeds to stare right at the sun. “Uh— See, the thing about it is…Alessia?”
“She won’t be meeting the family this trip. Not officially.” Alessia drags her gaze from Eloise to me. “Because I’d like to tell everyone you’re my boyfriend.”
With that, my best friend—who has been openly and exclusively interested in women since high school—opens her car door, as if that’s the end of the conversation.
I shove it shut as I gape at her. “What?”
“Sorry, let me be more specific: I want you to play my boyfriend at this wedding.”
“Why?” I glance at El. “Did you know about this?”
“It was half my idea, actually.” She backs slowly toward her truck, which I’m just now piecing together is filled with an unconscionable amount of seafood in preparation for the week. “Fun, right? I’ll let you two talk. Bye Nella!”
Nella waves but never takes her eyes off me and Alessia like we’re her daily soaps and someone is about to reveal the results of a paternity test.
“Alessia.” I gesture broadly. “Please explain.”
She steeples her hands beneath her chin. “Fine. You know that other than Enzo, my family is a giant judgmental mess, and that my dad, specifically, is a pretentious asshat, correct?”
“Sure. But that’s always been true.”
She blows out a breath. “Most of my family members don’t know I’m in a relationship with a woman. Every Mazzelli over the age of fifty is enthusiastically Catholic, especially the people flying in from Umbria.” She hugs her chest. “I’m not sure how they’d react, and I don’t want to overshadow Enzo’s wedding by announcing a new relationship. It’s his day, and I don’t want drama. There will be enough of that without me adding to it.”
“Okay. I can understand that. But are you sure you don’t want to just tell people you’re single?”
