Page 31 of A Hexcellent Chance to Fall in Love

“No. I’m fine.” I force a smile to prepare myself for having to smile through the next however many hours this dinner will take.

Stepping inside is like stepping through a portal directly into Italy.

Not that I’ve ever been there myself, but the cobblestone floors, lanterns, and plush greenery make it feel as though we’re standing outside a quaint little Italian town somewhere, not inside a restaurant in America.

A sign at the front says the main dining room is closed for a private event.

“Ciao. Welcome to Casa Nostra,” the host says. He’s wearing all black with his name, Joshua , embroidered in white on his shirt.

“We’re here for Emily and Antonio,” I tell him.

“Of course,” he says. “This way.” He walks Pepper and me down the hallway, which looks more like a charming alleyway, and into a massive room with a ceiling painted like the night sky and loads of tables all with red tablecloths.

People mill around while waiters wander through carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne.

Across the room are my parents and Ashley.

Emily is talking with a group of her friends, and then there’s Aunt Barbara and Uncle Donald, and my cousins Maggie and Joey.

Wow, did everyone turn up for this event? How big is the wedding going to be?

“You can do this.” Pepper nudges my side.

Maybe I can, but I’m not sure if I’m ready yet. “Let’s put these over there.” I head to the gift table, which is already overflowing with presents—Ashley’s box with her big white bow sits prominently in the middle. Pepper sets hers down next to mine.

“It’s your family; it’s going to be okay,” Pepper whispers.

“They love you.” She’s right, they do, and they mean well.

It’s still not always easy being compared to my sisters, or hearing how even other family members besides them are better than me in some way.

“How about I get us some drinks?” Pepper suggests.

“Maybe we should both go,” I say, but then Aunt JoJo sweeps up and pulls me in for the biggest hug—immediately I’m wrapped in her arms and the smell of Chanel No. 5, her signature scent, which she wears way too much of. Her salt-and-pepper hair is set in curls that spring up and over her ears.

“Christina, darling,” she coos.

I turn back, and Pepper gives me an encouraging smile, gesturing that she’s going to the bar.

She didn’t even ask me what I wanted, and I could really use some angry water to help settle the nerves in my stomach before I drink any alcohol—but with a lime so people will think it’s a cocktail and won’t ask why I’m not celebrating.

“We were just having a discussion, and I need you to settle something for me,” Aunt JoJo says.

Her arm links with mine, and she navigates her way through the crowd.

The silk skirt of her seafoam green dress is cool against my legs as she beelines to practically the opposite side of the room, creating her own wind in her wake.

Her pale cheeks are flushed—or it could just be that she was a little too generous with the blush.

She leads me straight toward a man who must be here from Antonio’s side, because I’ve never seen him before.

“Christina, this is Daryl. He’s one of the groomsmen and a lawyer. Daryl, this is who I was telling you about.” She winks at him, and the impending sense of doom already settles in my shoulders.

Aunt JoJo doesn’t have any debate she needs my help settling; she just wants to try and set me up.

I should’ve seen this coming from a million miles away—and added it to my list of things to worry about for the night so I could’ve already thought of a way to kindly extricate myself from this situation.

I should’ve just let Emily tell everyone I was bringing a date, and then I wouldn’t be standing here right now.

Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve—it’s basically my life’s motto at this point.

Luckily, it seems that Daryl looks just as uncomfortable as I feel. He runs a hand over his short black hair and stops at the back of his neck. His brown cheeks might even have taken on a rosy note of their own, or maybe that’s wishful thinking.

“Don’t hold the lawyer part against me.” Daryl chuckles as he sticks out a hand.

I shake it in response. While there’s no way anything will happen between us, he’s my sister’s fiancé’s friend and so there’s no reason to be rude either. He wasn’t the one trying to set me up with a practical stranger—thanks, Aunt JoJo.

Under different circumstances, I’d probably say he’s good-looking—not because I’m interested, but simply because it’s a fact.

He looks sharp in a navy suit and white button-up shirt—top button undone with no tie.

The way he stands makes it look almost like a casual outfit; being a lawyer probably means lots of suits and ties, so perhaps for him it is.

“Excuse me,” Aunt JoJo says. “It looks like I’m being summoned.” And with that she’s off again as quickly as she came.

“So you’re Emily’s older sister.” Daryl takes a casual sip of his drink. It isn’t the champagne that’s being passed around. His glass is short, and the liquid inside is a honey color.

“One of them, yes,” I say.

“That’s right; there are two of you.” He leans down to reach my ear. “Are you the nice one or the mean one?” A bold introduction, but then again, he did say he was a lawyer.

“I guess that depends on who you’re getting your information from.” I don’t have to make it too easy on the guy, even if he does seem nice enough.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Daryl chuckles again, the sound rich and warm. “Your aunt was saying something about architecture—” And there it is. Not even here for five minutes and already I have to deal with this. Why can’t my family just accept who I am? It’s not Daryl’s fault, but I snap.

“You seem like a smart guy, and my aunt means well and all, but this”—I gesture between the two of us—“isn’t going to happen. And it’s not because you don’t seem wonderful, you do, and you seem charming and are handsome and—”

“Gay.” Daryl lets out a sigh, which I can only assume is relief the way his whole body seems to relax in the process.

Oh my god. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own feelings, not once have I considered how awkward this must also be for him.

“My boyfriend couldn’t be here tonight. I tried to tell your aunt, but then she went to get you, and I didn’t want to cause any drama.”

A rush of relief washes over me. “I totally get it. You don’t have to explain yourself. And same. Bi, but still.” I gesture to myself. “I’m actually here with someone. She just went to get us drinks.”

He nods like he understands. If I had a dollar for every time a well-meaning family member tried to set me up, I’d have a lot of dollars. “Not a champagne girl,” he says.

“It gives me headaches,” I tell him. “And also, I’ve got to be on my toes tonight, it seems.”

“Yes, it does.”

We both laugh.

“So you’re Antonio’s friend.” I attempt to start over with him.

“Fraternity brother. We go way back.”

I glance around the room for Pepper, but she’s nowhere in sight.

“That’s cool. I’ve lost touch with basically all of my college friends.

I graduated and started working, and there just wasn’t a lot of time, you know.

” I suppose we’re still “connected” through the few social sites I still have accounts with, but I don’t think that really counts—plus I’m never on there.

“Oh, I get it. If it weren’t for Antonio, I probably wouldn’t have any friends at all. He’s the one that keeps us all in touch. Forces us to meet up at least once a month. Hell, if it weren’t for him, I never would’ve met Jack.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Sorry. Yes.” Daryl nods. “Antonio made us all do this ridiculous axe-throwing thing one night, and Jack was there with a group of his friends, and well, the rest is history.”

“Met while axe throwing. That’s a unique meet-cute.” My mind rushes back to the moment I met Pepper in the Halloween store—some might also call that unique. I’m sure not many could tell the story about bonding for the first time while shopping for severed heads.

“And no one got hurt, somehow, or sued anyone.” Daryl laughs. “It was a good time.”

“It probably would’ve put a damper on things if someone had an arm cut off or lost a couple of fingers.”

“I would’ve fainted. I don’t do the blood thing.” He shakes his head.

“Neither do I.” Even the idea of all the fake blood lined up on a shelf in the staging house makes my stomach a little queasy. I have to constantly remind myself it’s not real.

“I got you a seltzer, thinking it could help with your nerves,” Pepper whispers as she steps up from behind me and hands me a glass. “With a lime so it looks like a cocktail.” She winks.

I want to ask her how she knew exactly what I wanted, but right now, I’m not even about to question it. “Perfect.” I take a sip, and the bubbles immediately start doing their job. “Pepper, Daryl. Daryl, Pepper,” I introduce them.

They exchange hellos and shake hands.

“I should probably…” he says.

“Yes, of course,” I say.

He leans in. “For the record, you’re definitely the nice one.” He raises his glass toward who I assume is another groomsman—in an “I’m coming” kind of way. “It was nice meeting you both,” he says before striding off.

I turn to Pepper. “Have I told you yet how glad I am you’re here?

” The seltzer water is exactly what I needed, but even more so, she is—her being here is already making this night so much easier.

Although this thing with Daryl was never going to happen, at least now neither one of us has to explain why.

I’m here with someone—who’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the room.

Her brow scrunches together. “Someone was trying to set you up with him, weren’t they?”

“Yep.”

Pepper glances toward Daryl and back to me. “Had they never met a gay man before?”

I burst out laughing. “I didn’t notice at first either.”