Chapter 74

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Andrea

"Certamento, Enzo," the old man assures hurriedly before rushing off. I rub my temples and release a heavy sigh. The banquet hasn't even started and I already can't wait for it to be over.

(Of course, Enzo)

When I had to untangle myself from Giada this morning and climb out of our warm bed, I swear I never hated my job more. My girl didn't even stir. Not when I had to pry one of my legs from in between her two and not when I gently lay her head on the pillow instead of my chest. Nope, she simply sighed softly before turning around and pulling the blankets closer.

I was jealous.

Now I just wish she'd be here too. Suffering together is more fun, isn't that what she said?

Right on cue, my friend throws one of his arms over my shoulders and bumps into my shoulder. "What's with the long face? Come on, the girls will be here soon, we got to get this shit ready," he says loudly.

He's so obnoxious.

I still love him, though.

I'll never admit that out loud.

"Get off of me you fucking chimpanzee," I groan, trying to push him away since he's still hanging onto me so closely our faces would touch if I turned mine.

Leo sucks in a breath, the drama queen. "Did you just call me an ape because I'm black?" he exclaims, putting on a full show.

I brush him off. "Shut the fuck up, you know I did not. I said that because you were hugging me like I was some fucking branch you wanted to hang yourself off. Also, pretty sure they have the same idea of personal space as you. None," I retort.

"Fair." He shrugs. "Anything left to do? People are starting to arrive."

I barely contain a groan. It's noon and the banquet is about to start. Then it'll go on forever, probably through the whole night because have you ever been to a big gathering of old Italian acquaintances? Fuck, they suddenly become best fucking friends, fake ones, but still ones that talk about every little thing that has been going on in their lives. And their children's. And nieces'. And grandchildren's.

"Andrea!" a familiar voice calls out and I turn towards it, for the first time wearing a genuine smile. Because this might be the only person I was looking forward to seeing again. "Guarda come sei diventato grande!" the plump, short woman adds, spreading her arms out wide as she pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

(Look how big you've gotten!)

I try to reciprocate but before I can pat her on the back more than once, she pulls away at arm's length and drags me down to her height by the shoulders. Then I get three juicy and wet- and kind of prickly, due to her mustache- kisses on the cheeks.

You gotta love it.

"Ciao, zia Vittina!" I greet her with a chuckle.

(Hi, aunt Vittina)

That earns me a reproachful look and a soft slap on my cheek. "Cosa c'è da ridere? Stai ridendo della tua povera vecchia zia?" she asks.

(What's so funny? Are you laughing at your poor old aunt?)

I assure her I wasn't and after a few more arguments going back and forth, the woman has forgiven me. Hurray! Little tip, just tell them you've missed them and that their hair looks great.

Anyway, when it's finally time to introduce Leo, I have to prove that I have a brilliant poker face. "E lui, chi è?" my aunt asks, looking my friend up and down.

And I knew it'd be good when Leo cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. My father taught him the tiniest amount of Italian, just for fun, and ever since, Leo hasn't missed a chance to prove to the world that he's bilingual. He's not, and my aunt's scrunched-up face at his horrible accent when he says, "Mi chiamo Leo, è un piacere," proves that.

I bite my tongue not to bust out laughing. "Andrea, dagli un batto. Io non riesco a farlo, non ho abbastanza forza. Un piacere," she huffs, "Sicuramente non con quell'accento."

(Andrea, hit him. I can't, I don't have enough strength. A pleasure, definitely not with that accent.)

"Wait what did she say? I didn't catch that," Leo interjects and I swear I was at the point of blinking back tears. Maybe it was the lack of sleep but fuck his expression is so pure I don't have it in me to tell him.

"She says the pleasure's hers," I tell him.

"Okay, good. That's what I thought," he agrees confidently. I might or might not have whimpered but covered it with a cough. Then I'm back to talking to one of my only remaining living relatives until she gets called away by someone else.

Not even a second after she's away, a phone goes off and interrupts the silence. Leo shows me his screen, letting me see Nyla's name.

And a few inappropriate emojis I choose to ignore.

For a beat, my chest tightens uncomfortably, my mind going over worst-case scenarios. But before things get too dark, my friend's girl's voice, cheery as ever, rings through to me.

"Are enough people there for our arrival to be epic or should we wait another hour?" she asks. Leo and I exchange a look, his expression mirroring my amusement.

"If you head out now, you'll arrive at the perfect time," Leo assures her.

Then, in the background Giada speaks up, obviously oblivious to the phone call, "You sure this isn't too much?" she asks, sounding nervous.

Before Nyla can reply, I do, "Tesoro, no it's not. As long as you like it, you wear it. You know damn well I'd gladly make a statement out of anyone who disrespects you or your choice of clothes."

There's a pause. Then, "Are you on the phone with them?" my girl whispers. Nyla must've nodded because Giada finally says, "Hi, guys," loud enough for us to hear.

I smile fondly. Then Leo hits me in the gut and my expression goes dark real quick. Son of a b-

"What is everyone else wearing? I don't want to stick out like a sore thumb," she goes on.

"Girl, zip it. That's the most amazing dress I've ever seen. If you don't wear it, I will," Nyla states at the same time as I say, "Giada, sorry to break it to you but you'd stick out in a dress bought at target. Everyone's going to gape at you, better make it worth their while."

"Fuck, that's disgustingly cute. Leo, when's the last time you spoke to me like that?" Nyla accuses her man loudly. Again, the urge to laugh is nearly unbearable.

"Like you're any better. The last nickname you called me was fuckface," my friend retorts. And when Giada bursts out laughing on the other side of the line, I can't help but join.

Yeah, maybe today won't be so bad after all.

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Untangle MeOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora