Page 86 of The Great Dating Fake Off
“What’s this, now?” Veronica pins me with another glare. “What does Nora know about my father?”
Benji’s head cocks sideways. “Yeah, what do you know about my grandpa?”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” I say, a manic edge to my voice. “I’m not keeping any secrets.”
Just the small one Santino asked me to keep.
“Other than your cheating, you mean?” snipes Veronica.
Benji throws his napkin on the table. “Jesus Christ. Mom, we were never—”
“Lies and deceit may come naturally to you,” she continues, clearly not even hearing her son. “But they aren’t acceptable—”
“That’s enough.” Sebastian’s voice booms as he rises to his full imposing height, almost flipping the table in his haste. “You will not continue to speak to Nora that way.”
“Don’t you dare cut off my wife when she’s speaking,” Giuseppe bellows. “She has every right to say what—”
“The hell she does.” Sebastian turns to face him. Whatever shred of respect he was holding on to when speaking to Veronica morphs to unfiltered rage when he addresses Giuseppe. “No one will disparage Nora, or make assumptions, or speak one word against her. If anyone has a problem, they can direct it at me. And that goes for everyone in this hall, understood?”
The room goes completely silent.
I stand stock-still as my heartbeat rages in my ears.
Sebastian finally meets my eye, and thunder claps in my chest. The ground beneath me grows unsteady.
No one has ever defended me like that.
His chest rises and falls as Alessia murmurs wow beside him.
Ro looks directly at me. “I want to know what the truth is. Were you ever interested in my brother? Were you dating Sebastian the whole time? Whatever it is, why wouldn’t you just tell me?”
And there’s the nausea again. How do I tell her that I wanted to protect Benji but that I started to care for her like a friend, too, and it made it hard to lie? Can I do that here and now, without admitting why he felt the need to lie in the first place?
Enzo rakes his hand through his hair as red splotches that look like stress hives creep across his neck. “We— They were trying to keep your week as stress-free as possible, baby. It came from a good place.”
She cuts a look at him. “Wait. You knew about this? And you also lied to me?”
Alessia winces. “That’s my fault—”
“Don’t act so surprised, Rosalina,” Veronica intones. “He’s a Mazzelli. I warned you about his character.”
“I said it’s my fault,” Alessia repeats louder.
Veronica sweeps a hand. “A Mazzelli is a Mazzelli.”
“Whoa, wait a second—your son lied, too, Veronica. This isn’t a last-name specific thing.”
“Hey,” Benji gripes. “I thought we were cool?”
“We are cool. I like you. I’m just trying to get my future mother-in-law to regard me with the barest amount of respect and not constantly assassinate my character. That’s all I want.”
Benji lifts his hands as if to say fair enough.
Ro’s head falls into her hands.
“Enzo, we’ll discuss this later. You’re upsetting Rosalina.” Veronica resumes her default stance—staring daggers at me with her arms crossed. “Now, I want to know what’s the secret you’re keeping about my father. Can you at least speak to that, Nora?”
Sebastian’s disapproving glare returns with a vengeance. He opens his mouth to take her on, but Santino pushes his chair back and lifts his hand in a call for silence. “Allow me to speak to it myself. This is long overdue.” Santino scoots between the Ferraro and Mazzelli immediate family tables as every single set of eyes in this place tracks him. He takes Gloria’s face between his palms, fondness shining in his eyes. “Come here, you royal pain in my ass.”
