A LITTLE BIT OF SUGAR (6 page)

“Anthony,” I groaned in irritation. It was too early in the morning to have to think about anything.

“I’m referring to the increase in male customers at the Casa di Pasta since you started waitressing there again?”

After graduating from college, I’d gone right back to work at the restaurant, but I hadn’t noticed any increase in male customers.

“You are so full of it,” I said, shaking my head.

“I’m serious. Why do you think I eat there so much?”

“Because you get your kicks out of being a pain in my ass.” Anthony loved to give me a hard time when I was working. Always needing more water, more rolls, another straw, you name it.

“Actually, I prefer watching your ass,” he said and then tipped his head back to drain the rest of his coffee.

I gave him a shove. “Shut up, Carboni.”

“What?” he asked with an innocence I wasn’t buying. “I’m just being honest.”

Two could play that game. “I guess that’s why I always sit out on the back deck when you’re mowing.”

He looked up, his dark eyes meeting mine. “What?”

“To watch yours,” I admitted with a grin. “Gotta run.”

Shooting to my feet, I made my way down the porch steps and cut across the yard without looking back. That would teach Anthony to flirt with someone who was immune to the Carboni charm. Well, more immune at least than most girls.

Anthony had been a flirt for as long as I could remember, but the flirting between the two of us had changed since my coming home from college. It was more often. Felt more exciting. Like we were playing with verbal fire. And I liked it. I liked it a whole lot.

CHAPTER SIX

“Can I help you?”

I smiled at the receptionist. “Yes, I have an appointment with Mr. Frazetti.”

She looked down at her appointment book and then back up at me. “Gina Stewart?”

“Yes.” My stomach was in a knot. I’d never had to do the interview thing.

She picked up the phone and punched in a number. “Mr. Frazetti, your next appointment is here.”

His next? That meant I wasn’t the only one going for this job. I’d have to be on top of my game. I would go in there and convince him that his company couldn’t live without my secretarial abilities.

Thinking it and doing it were two different things. Because twenty minutes later I walked out of Mr. Frazetti’s office, knowing I had just bombed my first real interview.

No one had warned me that I’d have to do a typing test. It wasn’t like I couldn’t type. I just couldn’t do it fast or without looking at the keyboard. And who knew a phone could have so many buttons?

My next appointment at Shaylor and Sons was like a deja vǘ of the first interview. Only it wasn’t my poor typing skills or phone handling abilities that blew that one for me. It was my refusal to pee in a cup.

I knew a lot of places did drug testing as a part of their hiring process, but I was not in the mood to try and hit some dinky little paper Dixie cup. And the thought of handing someone other than the nurse at my doctor’s office a cup of my urine was...well, ick.

This interview thing was all new to me, so I tried not to get too down. It didn’t work. I had really been counting on one of those two interviews to come through. The more I drove around thinking about it, the more depressed I became. How would I ever become independent if my financial security depended on my family?

I stopped at the gas station and picked up a newspaper, something I’d been putting off, and then drove over to Wendy’s where I ordered myself a large Frosty to ease my misery.

The picture of me sitting up on the back of Anthony’s convertible wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. Not with the stupid weenie float in the background behind me. And let’s not forget the sausage scepter I was holding.

With a groan, I folded the front page back and thumbed through the remaining pages to find the Want Ads. If I wanted to go into downtown Cleveland to work, there were a lot of options open. But I wasn’t much of a big city driver, so my remaining choices were limited.

I continued skimming through the ads for the Little Florence area. Other than the two places I’d interviewed with that morning, all that was left was an opening for a gas station attendant, a full-time sitter, and a person to deliver singing telegrams. It looked like I’d be picking up more hours at the restaurant.

I tossed my empty Frosty cup into a nearby trashcan and then pulled out of the Wendy’s parking lot with a heavy sigh. I was in desperate need of my friends who I knew I could vent to anytime the need arose. Today was one of those times.

I turned and headed for the north side of Little Florence to what would hopefully be my new home if I ever got another job. Not that my father would be too thrilled by my moving out. He’d prefer to keep his little ‘bambinas’ home forever if he could, but I was a grown woman who was ready to be out on her own. Or as ‘on my own’ as it got, considering I’d be rooming with my three best friends.

I pulled into the apartment complex and followed the winding road around to the row of townhouses where the one we were looking at renting was located. Carlina, Mia and Alisa’s cars were all parked outside.

I parked next to Mia’s VW Bug and grabbed my purse from the seat beside me. Getting out of my car, I looked around the neighborhood. The lawns were well cared for and the buildings impressively maintained. You’d never know it was an older complex. Standing there, I could actually imagine myself living there.

I made my way up the sidewalk that ran between their townhouse and the one beside it. Despite having had such a shitty start to my day, I felt a surge of excitement. If I didn’t find a second job right away, I knew I could always get more hours at the restaurant to cover my portion of the rent there.

Living on my own. Setting my own rules. Not that my parents had ever really been strict with me or my sister. There had never been any need to be. We had always been ‘good’ girls.

Well, maybe not always. I had tried smoking a cigarette at Carlina’s that one time. And, after losing a bet with my friends that past spring when we all went to Ft. Lauderdale for spring break, I did enter a wet t-shirt contest. Needless to say my second place ribbon found a home in the trashcan of our hotel room the day we left to come home. Anthony would have had a field day with that one if he ever found out. But I trusted my friends to keep that bit of information between us.

Twenty some identical townhouse-style apartments surrounded ours, forming a nice little community which consisted mostly of young couples and college students. A rec area sat behind their building, complete with an in-ground pool, picnic tables and grills and a basketball court. Not that I would ever have any use for the basketball court, but the pool would definitely be my favorite hangout when the weather permitted.

I stepped up onto the front porch and raised my hand to knock.

The door flew open before I had a chance to and Alisa greeted me with an excited smile. “Gina!”

“Hey.”

She yelled back over her shoulder, “Hey, guys, Gina’s here!”

I looked around at the stacks of partially unpacked boxes. The girls had moved into the place a few weeks before and were still settling in.

She turned back to me. “Something wrong?”

I shrugged. “It’s nothing. I’ve just had a shitty day.”

She grabbed my arm and dragged me inside. “Then you came to the right place to get over it.”

Carlina nodded. “Vent away. You know we’re always there for each other when whining about our life is needed.”

Mia came down the stairs carrying a bucket of sudsy water and a mop. “Hey, soon-to-be roomie!” she exclaimed with a welcoming grin. “You come to work?”

“More like trying to find work,” I replied with a sigh.

“She’s here to vent,” Alisa explained as she closed the door behind me.

“I take it your interviews this morning didn’t go so well,” Mia said with a frown.

“That’s putting it mildly,” I said. “I tanked. A college graduate and I can’t even land a secretarial job.”

“I’m sorry you’re having such a sucky day,” Mia said. Setting aside her cleaning supplies, she grabbed me by the arm and led me into the living room. “Sit,” she ordered, pointing to the plaid sofa Alisa’s parents had given to them.

Tossing my purse onto the table beside it, I dropped down onto the sofa.

Carlina sat next to me. Alisa and Mia settled onto a couple of mismatched chairs across from me. Ones they’d picked up at a yard sale that past weekend.

“Okay, we’re all ears,” Alisa said with a smile.

I sank back onto the worn sofa cushion with a long, drawn out sigh. “I’ve always had my job at the restaurant. I never had to worry about going out on interviews. And I’ll tell you right now there’s nothing worse than job hunting.”

“No?” Mia teased. “It’s worse than having to ride through town as the ‘Sausage Queen’?”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Seriously,” Carlina cut in, “I’ll bet your interviews didn’t go nearly as bad as you think they did.”

“You have no idea,” I told her. “I should have a huge ‘L’ tattooed on my forehead.”

“Shut up,” she said with a frown. “You’re not a loser. You’re just overqualified.”

“I wish that was all it was. I can’t type worth a shit and my computer skills are pathetic. And don’t even get me started on operating phone systems.”

“Maybe you’re applying for the wrong kinds of jobs,” Alisa suggested.

Carlina nodded. “I agree. You aren’t the secretary type. You’re too creative. You need a job you can be passionate about.”

That was the problem. I didn’t have any inkling what sort of job would do that for me.

“She’s right,” Mia said. “You need to do something that makes you happy. Like you are when you’re baking cupcakes.”

“Cupcakes?” I repeated.

“Yes. It’s no secret that you love to bake cookies and cupcakes and all sorts of sweets.”

“And you make damn good homemade frosting, too,” Carlina added.

“You guys are making me hungry,” Alisa whined. “I say we run to the store and buy stuff to make cupcakes. We can figure out what Gina should do while she’s baking for us.”

“While I’m baking?”

“Nobody does it better than you,” Mia said with a smile.

“We’ll be your assistants,” Alisa offered.

Carlina nodded. “And your job counselors all at once. So what do you say? Are we making a run to the grocery store?”

I nodded with a grin. “We’re running.”

* * *

An hour later, we were waiting for the timer to go off for the first batch of cupcakes. Just the smell of them made me happy.

“Those are so cute,” Mia said as she peered in through the oven window, admiring the mini cupcake pan I had picked up when we were at the grocery store.

Carlina grabbed a pair of potholders from the kitchen drawer. “Speaking of cute. How’s Tiger?”

“Having a shitty day himself.”

“Why?” my friends all asked, their gazes swinging my way.

“He walked in on his mom and Lance getting it on last night.”

“No way!” Mia gasped.

Alisa and Carlina both made eew faces.

“Yeah,” I said. “Luckily, all he saw was Lance’s bare butt hiked up in the air.”

Carlina laughed. “I’m not so sure Anthony would consider seeing Lance’s ass as being lucky.”

“It’s better than seeing his mom’s,” Alisa argued. “That could mess a guy up for life.”

Carlina nodded. “No kidding. Billy D’Antoni walked in on his mom and dad doing the nasty and now he’s gay.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Billy’s been gay since he was born. Remember how he used to go around in first grade wanting to brush and style everyone’s hair?”

“First through twelfth,” Mia pointed out with a grin. “He was helping girls out with their hair at graduation.”

“I hear he’s living in California now and working in some high class salon,” Alisa said.

I couldn’t help but frown. “See there. Even Billy knew what he wanted to do. What’s wrong with me?”

Mia laughed. “Nothing’s wrong with you. Now stop freaking out.”

“Speaking of freaking out...” I said. “I thought for sure Anthony would back out of our Cedar Point date, but he hasn’t.” I paced the kitchen. “What’s he waiting for?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to cancel,” Alisa said.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because then Anthony will say I was going back on my word.”

“So?” Mia replied. “It’s a hell of a lot better than getting puked on.”