Page 43 of The Art of Almost Losing It
“Then why did you even kidnap her, dude?”
“You fucking—” Grayson hisses at Spencer.
“That”—Dani lists to the side and almost falls off the bed—“is what I wanna know. Inquiring minds wanna… inquire.”
“How much have you drunk?” I demand.
“Not enough. Need greasy carbs. Get me a towel,” she orders one of my brothers. “I don’t want grease on the bedspread. Pizza smells so good, and it’s still nice and hot.”
“You had a phone on you this whole time?” I scream at her as Finn comes back with a bath towel. “That’s my good towel.” I snatch it from him.
“You can’t be acting like that at the engagement party,” Dani warns me as she pulls a slice of pizza out of the box.
“Why didn’t you call the cops?” I yell at her. “You see?” I tell Grayson, gesturing to Dani. “She’s crazy. This is not my fault.”
“You kidnapped her. It is, in fact, your fucking fault.”
“Yeah. This one’s on you.”
Ding-dong!
“I hope that’s my Chinese food.” Dani stuffs a slice of pizza in her mouth.
“I’m not paying the delivery boy this time,” Grayson hisses.
She’s sitting on the bed, chowing down on an extra-large pepperoni pizza when I return with the bags of Chinese food.
“Can I have a crab Rangoon?” Finn begs as I set down the bags.
“I hope I ordered those. I think I did. Oh no…” A piece of pepperoni falls onto the white bedspread. “See? Bed-picnic towel is needed.”
I spread it down in front of her.
“What happened to your face?” Dani demands, grabbing my chin as I try to mop up the grease stain. “Did you punch him in the face?” she shrieks at Grayson.
“Ma’am.” My oldest brother stares at the ceiling.
“I’m not that old!” Dani starts sobbing. “Why are people calling me ‘ma’am’?”
“Can I have a garlic knot?” Connor throws himself on the bed.
“Sure, cutie.”
“I’m cute.” Connor rolls on his back and eats the garlic knot.
“He looks like a little otter.” Dani fishes ice out of her wineglass and slaps it on my bruised face.
“Ow!”
“I can’t have you bruising.” She sniffles. “I need you to be in top form for Tuesday.”
“What’s happening Tuesday?” I push her hand out of the way.
“Seriously? You’re my date to my friend’s engagement party. You need to put this on your calendar.”
Ding-dong!
“Did you order any BBQ?” Finn asks her when he comes back up with yet another bag. “Where are you ordering BBQ in Manhattan?”
