Page 97 of The Great Dating Fake Off
Nora waves this off with an amicable smile. “I’ll be sure to come say hello next time.”
Time to move this thing along. “Do you like margaritas, Nor?”
“I love them.”
I move toward my grandmother and pull her in for a side-hug, guiding her away from Nora. “You know I’m no good at making frozies. Mind showing me how it’s done?”
Nella’s eyes light up. “Of course! I’ll whip up another batch. Everyone, make a plate! Eat, eat!”
We take our full dinner plates to the kitchen table, which will serve as our poker table as soon as everyone is finished stuffing their faces. The six of us fit around the rectangle with little room to spare. If there were one more player, we’d have to take it to the formal dining room, where everything feels untouched by time and the chairs are less comfortable.
Nora and Nella become fast friends through dinner, chatting so much I have to remind Nora to eat. I’m not sure what to make of the two of them, so I shove forkfuls of food into my mouth and keep my ears peeled for any conversational turns that require my intervention.
Alessia, Eloise, and Enzo nurse their frozen drinks but pound a few straight shots of tequila. Nella, not to be left out, takes one shot and starts telling inappropriate stories about her wedding anniversaries that make me want to evacuate this homestead.
Alessia goads Nella on as usual, asking about “Mr. Georgie’s best attributes” and—spoiler alert—it was all of them. Nonno was a chiseled god, a man who was begging to be painted, the only man who made Nella’s heart race.
The table gets progressively drunker, trading out our plates for poker chips and starting the game. Nella deals the first hand, as is our tradition.
As the night moves along, Enzo keeps offering everyone shots. Nora and I take them, since I’m pretty sure it’s established that we’re doing whatever Enzo wants tonight.
Whatever gets him talking.
Beside me, Nora’s chair almost touches mine. Our knees knock under the table every time we have to move, and all we do is move, it seems, lunging for poker chips, reaching for cards, passing the deck. At one point I swear I feel something slide against my ankle, and I accidentally bet too much on a risky hand.
When Eloise wins her fourth (or maybe seventh?) hand of the night, I realize my plays are getting sloppy. Should’ve folded on that one sooner.
“That’s my girl.” Alessia plants a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek.
“Your nose is looking awfully red, Alessia,” I call across the table. “You trying to outdrink the rest of us tonight?”
“That is not a competition you want to have, my dude.” Alessia looks at Nora, an evil glint in her eye. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but our guy Sebastian here thinks he’s king of the world when he drinks tequila. You’ll have to cut him off.”
“I don’t need tequila to think I’m the king of the world, Alessia.” I extend my arms. “Behold my palace.”
“Aw, Sebastian can’t handle his tequila?” Nora rests her cheek on her fist to look at me as Eloise deals the next hand.
I fucking love it when she looks at me in a room full of people.
“Should I tell everyone about the summer after senior year of high school?” Alessia tosses back the melted remains of her frozie. “The first time Sebastian drank tequila, he went off the rails. We were working at North Hills Country Club and—do you want to tell it or should I?”
I whip my gaze her way. “No one is going to tell it.”
“Wait, I don’t remember this story. What’d you do?” Enzo chimes in, arms crossed. “Can’t be worse than anything Alessia ever did.”
Alessia kicks him under the table and he whimpers.
Nora pokes me in the biceps. “I want to know.”
I tilt my head toward her. She’s so damn close.She looks good tonight, skin flushed and tan, hair wilder than usual as if she was at the beach today.
“Well, Nora”—Alessia leans all her weight forward on the table, incapable of sitting on her ass like a normal person—“what had happened was—”
“I will slash your tires.” I follow this threat with a tiny sip of water, because I am the responsible adult at this table.
And then I follow it with a shot, because Enzo slid it in front of me.
Nora shifts in her seat as the liquor works through me. The heat of her body is tangible. I grip my knee under the table so I don’t put my hand on her in some way, because there’s no crying in baseball and no touching in poker.
