I knew family dinners were tense, but Jesus. The Voss’ are full of emotional outbursts and petty comments. I tried to help her relax by keeping my hand on her thigh. I’ve watched enough movies and read enough books to know that pulling that kind of stunt is either supposed to turn a girl on or drive her insane. Or, in Scarlett’s case, both.
The small glances she gives me each time I squeeze her thigh make my chest bloom with pride.The way she stands up for herself against her brother is probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.I’m fully convinced that pretending to date Scarlett for one night might be the best thing to ever happen to me.
We eat the lasagne Scarlett’s mom made mostly in silence as small talk gets dragged out by long chews or generous gulps. I don’t usually enjoy talking about myself, especially when I’m nervous, but I can’t mess this up for her. So, when her mom asks me what I study at NU, I feel like I can’t stop talking.
Scarlett cuts off my rambling, finally. “Loves to talk, this one,” she says, laughing lightly. Everyone on the table laughs too. Apart from Arthur – he just glares at me.
“Ah, not as much as you,” I say back, and she gives me a fake smile.
“So, Evan,” Henry starts whilst he’s in the middle of eating some garlic bread. His mom swats him at the back of his head for talking with his mouth full. He swallows before speaking next. “Do you speak any languages?”
“Uh, French and a little Italian,” I lie. I had a tutor growing up who taught me how to speak fluent Italian. I only picked up a little French after countless trips there. Henry’s eyes light up.
“Only a little, huh?” Henry asks and I know he’s got me figured out. This must be where Scarlett gets it from. She looks at me curiously, probably not realising what she’s about to find out. “Come va?”
“Bene e te?” I reply. Henry replies back in Italian, telling me that he’s doing okay. Scarlett rests her head in her hand now, looking at me seriously. I smirk at her and she shakes her head a little, as if silently asking me what I’m doing.
“Cosa ne pensi dei cavoletti di Bruxelles?” her mom asks me, wanting to know how her brussel sprouts tasted. “Erano a norma per te?”
“Sì, erano perfetti,” I say. Smiling as I whisper, “Proprio come tua figlia.”
Scarlett’s mom claps her hands together happily. “Ah, I see you learnt all the good stuff.”
I nod, grinning. I turn to Scarlett. Her cheeks are a little pink now, which is hard to tell if it was from the wine she’s had or if she’s blushing.
I know what her brother asked her earlier and I know what she said. I just wanted her to admit that she said what she did.
“Did you fuck him?” he had asked earlier.“No, I didn’t fuck him, asshole. Not yet, anyway,”she replied. She can’t hide from this as much as she tries to.
“Sei fluente, vero?”she asks me.
“Sì, tesoro, lo sono,” I admit, unable to stop the smile exploding across my face as her mouth hangs open.
“You little shit. You knew what Henry said earlier, didn’t you?”
I lean into her and whisper, “Every word.”
Scarlett
The rest of the meal went smoothly. Well, as smoothly as it could with my brothers there. We even make it to dessert. Until Leo asks Evan about how B&Co is doing, no doubt to cause drama. Evan answers the questions with ease, telling my brothers exactly what they want to hear. Their sales are doing fine and they’re picking up more now as it’s getting closer to the holidays. My mom eats it all up, but Arthur can’t stop himself.
“Your little rebellious phase isn’t cute anymore,” he spits at me.
“Who said I’m trying to rebel or act cute?” I ask confidently, keeping my posture straight, looking and acting picture-perfect as I take a sip of my wine. He’s trying to get to me, and I won’t let him.
“What are you trying to prove?” he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
“God, give it a rest,” Henry mutters. Evan’s trying to act like he can’t hear, probably not wanting to get involved in a sibling argument.I would be surprised if he had even a molecule of understanding what it’s like to grow up with four older brothers, him being an only child and all.
“No, because she’s acting out like a desperate whore who could have a decent man in her life, but instead chooses him,” he argues. My mom gasps, but she doesn’t say anything.
I don’t even flinch.
Evan does. He bangs his hand on the table. Everyone turns to look at him. I’ve never seen him look this upset before. No. Not upset. This is pure rage.
I watch as he forces his breathing to settle – a technique I’ve noticed too many times not to pick up on it.
“I know I’m a guest here and I knew you were not going to be happy with my presence. By all means, call me every name under the sun because of who my family are, but donottalk to her like that. Indirectly or not, you should never call your sister what you just did. You’re a fucking animal. Pardon my language, but it’s true. You’re supposed to be protecting her from guys like yourself. Scarlett can date who she wants to, and it really shouldn’t matter who their family is, especially when your family isn’t perfect either,” he shouts. I blink up at him, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at my mom, his eyes stormy. “I’m sorry for raising my voice, Mrs Voss.La cena è stata deliziosa.”
