A LITTLE BIT OF SUGAR (7 page)

I shuddered at the thought. “I have no intention of getting puked on by Anthony or anyone.”

Carlina laughed as she handed me the potholders. “I guess that leaves nursing out as a possible career choice.”

“I’m serious,” I told them. “We’re going to an amusement park and you guys know how Anthony tolerates rides.”

“You’re the one who suggested it,” Carlina reminded me.

She was right. This whole date mess was my fault. I’d picked Cedar Point so Anthony wouldn’t push the going out thing, but he had to go and screw everything up by accepting. Damn him!

“That’s it,” I said, reaching for my purse.

“What are you doing?” Alisa asked as I pulled out my cell phone.

“I’m going to call him and cancel our date. I told him we’d go out when pigs flew. There was never any deal on where it had to be.” So I could cancel without guilt and just come up with some other place for us to go hang out.

“Do you really want to do that to him today of all days?” Alisa shook her head and clicked her tongue.

“What’s wrong with today?”

“He’s still getting over walking in on his mom and Lance Lance Hottie Pants.”

“I think that would be Lance Lance No Pants,” Carlina corrected as she poured herself a glass of iced tea.

She was right. I couldn’t do that to Anthony. Not when he was doing all he could mentally to deal with his mom’s mid-life ‘Lance’ crisis. I was so screwed.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Had I finally lost my mind? Instead of asking my father for more hours at the restaurant, I’d actually taken that job doing singing telegrams. Me. Gina Stewart. The same Gina Stewart who nearly flunked choir because she was so incredibly tone-deaf. But I didn’t want to want to add to my father’s hope that I would eventually take over the family business. He had Carla for that. She loved cooking and waiting on tables.

I glanced over at the nylon bag on the seat beside me. An oversized bag filled with the costumes I was expected to wear for my new job. When I’d interviewed for it, I thought I’d be wearing some sort of company uniform to do the singing telegrams. Not freaking costumes!

I forced my gaze back to the road ahead, thinking to myself
‘At least, you’re not going to be pumping gas’
. If I screwed that up, the results could be deadly. So I’d taken the safer route, even if the thought of singing to people while looking like an idiot still had me cringing.

I had to focus on something else, like how badly I wanted to move in with my friends. That meant there would be additional bills to pay, responsibilities my parents couldn’t bail me out of. And I wanted my independence bad enough to suffer through this job until something better came along. I just hoped that didn’t take too long to happen.

My cell phone rang, yanking me from my thoughts. I reached into my purse and pulled it out, bringing it to my ear. “Hello?”

“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to reach you or not.”

“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

“I was calling to see how your interview went today.”

“It went okay. I got the job.”

“That’s wonderful. You never did say who the interview was with. What are you going to be doing?”

Other than making a complete fool of myself?
I thought with a frown.
But then I’d already done that during the parade. Couldn’t sink much lower than that.

I’d had five other interviews that week, hitting everything from law firms to doctor’s offices to corporate businesses. You name it. They always ended with the same old ‘We’ll be making our decision by the end of the day. If we decide to hire you, we’ll give you a call.’” Needless to say, the call never came. And now here I was, newly employed by Wacky Willy’s Singing Telegrams.

“Honey, are you there?”

“I’m here. I’m going to be delivering telegrams.” I left out the singing part. It didn’t seem that important.

“Oh.” There was a moment of silence before she added, “That’s sounds...interesting.” Meaning it’s not what she’d hoped for in way of a job for her oldest child, but she’d accept it all the same.

“I’ll make a special dinner to celebrate tonight.”

“You don’t need to go to any trouble. I’m not sure I’ll be home for dinner tonight anyway,” I added. Truth was I didn’t want to have to answer any more questions about my new job. And dinner that night would guarantee an interrogation.

“I’ll make your favorite.”

“Stuffed manicotti?” I said, my stomach rumbling at the thought of it, my resolve weakening.

“With my special sauce,” she added.

Oh, man, did my mom know how to reel me in, or what? “All right. I’ll make dessert.” It would help relieve my stress.

“I was hoping you’d say that. Aunt Lorna’s sweet tooth will thank you.”

Who was she kidding? My mother was the one who loved the sweets in my family. Lucky for her, she had good genes. She could eat anything she wanted and never gain weight. Unlike the rest of us.

“I’ll make Florentine Cheesecake just for her.”

“She’ll love that.”

“I should be home around four. I’m going to stop by the apartment and tell the girls I’ll finally be able to move in with them.”

“You’re really going to do this?” she said. “Move out on your own.”

“Yes.”

“It won’t be the same without you here. Just remember, if things don’t work out you can always come back home. Our door will always be open to you.”

I had no doubt things would work out, but I appreciated her offer all the same. “Thanks, Mom. See you in a bit.”

* * *

“You’re home,” Mia said when I arrived at the townhouse.

“Almost my home,” I corrected with a smile.

“Does that mean things went well today?” she asked between spoonfuls of the low-fat yogurt she was eating.

“I suppose you could say that. I got the job.”

She studied me closely. “That’s supposed to be a good thing, right? Because you don’t seem too excited about it.”

I held the huge nylon bag of costumes out in front of me. “Maybe because I have to wear these.”

Her gaze dropped down. “These?”

“My costumes.”

She grabbed for the bag. “I have to see this.”

I followed her into the living room where she set her yogurt down on the end table and then settled onto the sofa where she began digging through the oversized bag.

Her gaze snapped up to meet mine. “You have to wear a fur coat?”

“No, I have to dress like a gorilla.”

She laughed as if I was kidding. “What?”

I reached inside and pulled the bundle of fur the rest of the way out, every ugly ass inch of it. “See.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“Hold on, it gets better.” I pulled out the rest of my work costumes, a belly dancer, a nurse and a clown outfit.

“No way,” she gasped. “You have to wear these?”

I nodded. “I should have peed in the cup.”

My friend looked at me like I was crazy. “Huh?”

“Never mind.” I flopped down onto the sofa beside her. “I can’t believe I took this job. Tell me moving out from under my parent’s roof is going to be worth the humiliation this job is going to cause me.”

“It’s so worth it,” she assured me with a smile, but then she wasn’t the one having to dress up like a gorilla. “So will you be delivering balloons, or what?”

“Sometimes.” I began stuffing the costumes back into the bag. “It depends on what the customer orders.”

She handed me the bright red clown wig. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We’ll front you any money you need until you find a job you like.”

I shook my head. “I appreciate the offer, but I want to make it on my own. So if it means I have to deliver a few singing telegrams in stupid outfits until something better comes along I’m going to do it.”

“Singing?”

“They’re singing telegrams.”

She snorted. “You’re kidding, right?”

I frowned. “I wish I was. You know, I’m beginning to think I’m being punished for something I did in another lifetime.”

Mia laughed. “I doubt that. Besides, your luck seems pretty good to me.”

Was she crazy? “How do you figure that?”

“Come on, Gina, you’ve got the hottest guy in town chasing after you. Where is the punishment in that?”

She had no idea. Fighting my feelings for Anthony was so hard, but I didn’t want to lose the friendship we had. He was too much of a flirt to hook up with one girl for very long.

“Anthony and I-”

“Are just good friends,” Mia answered for me with an exaggerated eye roll.

“So, where is everyone?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Carlina’s on a date and Alisa ran to the mall.”

I pushed off the sofa and grabbed the nylon bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. My mom’s making a special dinner tonight to celebrate my new job. I promised to make a Florentine cheesecake for dessert.”

She followed me out to the front door. “Mmm, I love cheesecake. Especially if you’re making it. “Can I come to dinner, too?”

I laughed. “I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind. She lives to feed others.”

“I’m just kidding. I have to work tonight.”

“Tell you what, I’ll double the recipe and make an extra cheesecake for you guys.”

Her dark brown eyes lit up. “You’re the best.”

I snorted. “Tell that to all the employers who turned me down.”

* * *

“Gina...Gina...Gina...” my father exclaimed with a welcoming smile when he arrived home that evening.

“Hey, Dad.”

He gave me his usual enthusiastic Italian bear hug greeting while I did my best not to drop the plate of cheesecake was carrying out to the dinner table. “I hear you have some good news to share. I’m hoping that you’re going to tell us you’ve changed your mind about moving out.”

“Dad,” I said with a groan, “we’ve been over this before. I have to grow up sometime.”

“You’ll always be my little girl. Besides, you’re too young to be out on your own, bella mia.”

“Mom was already married to you at my age.”

He followed me into the dining room. “My point exactly. She wasn’t out on her own. She had me.”

My mom carried in a large bowl filled with salad greens. “I thought I heard you talking to someone in here,” she said when she saw my father.

He walked over to give her an affectionate kiss on the lips.

I set the dessert platter I was carrying down on the table next to the salad bowl. “I’ll go check on the garlic bread.”

The doorbell chimed.

“I’ll see to the garlic bread,” my mom insisted. “You can answer the door.”

My sister stepped into the room. “Don’t keep your guest waiting. It’s not polite.”

My guest?

Mia? Had her work plans changed? She was the only one who knew about this dinner.

I walked out to the foyer and opened the door with a smile. “You made it after all.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Anthony Carboni replied with a crooked grin. “I even cut out of work early. Thanks for the invite.”

Invite?

He looked incredibly hot in a pair of thigh-hugging jeans and olive green t-shirt that clung to his muscular chest. “Anthony?”

“You seem surprised.” A second later, he rolled his eyes. “This wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“I...uh...well, no.”

“I should have known something was up when Carla called to give me your message.” He turned his frown to my sister who stood in the dining room doorway.

“Hello, Anthony,” she said with an innocent smile. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m needed in the kitchen.”

Before I could demand an explanation from her, she was gone. I turned to Anthony. “I can’t believe she called you at work.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I was pretty much done for the day anyway.”

“It appears my sister’s joined forces with my dad in playing matchmaker.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I can use all the help I can get where you’re concerned.”

“Give it up, Carboni. There is never going to be an ‘us’.” Even as I said it, I was drawn to the scent of him. Musk mixed with a hint of spice. Leaning forward, I sniffed softly and then looked up at him, brow raised questioningly. “Aftershave? You got a hot date later?”