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“Good evening, papa.”
I drop my cigarette on the ground without bothering to step on it. Maybe my father’s right — it’s time for him to retire. But how the fuck will I get an heir? I need help.
There’s one person I can call on for assistance in these matters. I don’t like involving the Greeks in Italian business, but… they’re our cousins. She answers after a few rings and it sounds like she’s at a nightclub. She has an inordinate amount of time for parties...
“Ciao?”
I can barely hear her over the sound of the music.
“Miss Pagonis. It’s Van.”
She giggles. “Duh. What’s happening? You finally have work for me?”
“How soon can you come back to Italy?”
* * *
Chapter2
Single AF On The Amalfi Coast
Jodi Rose
I’m the last single woman in my family.
Three months in Italy, and I haven’t had so much as a kiss, but my younger cousin Raven gets married to her college boyfriend and he looks like a dream. I drop a congratulatory comment on her photo, but my heart sinks.
You ugly, Jodi. Get used to it and stop chasing all these men out of your league. Settle with Kyle. He’s the best you can do.Maybe mama was right. I’m not the marrying kind, anyway. I spent all my dating years focused on school and look at where that got me…
“Edo!”
The bartender gives me a sympathetic look. Ugh. Edo is so hot. Too bad all the hot guys are gay, especially in Italy, apparently.
“What happened?”
“Look at this.”
I show him my phone and Edo cracks a smile. “Beautiful! Is she your sister?”
“No, my cousin. She’s getting married and here I am… single… again.”
And I’m running away from my problems with a one-way ticket to Italy. When my family finds out I’m not coming back, they’re going to lose their minds. Everyone already thinks I’m crazy for leaving Kyle…
“Fuck your ex, Jodi. Seriously, fuck him,” Edo says with all the passion of a best friend, even if we barely know each other.
I have major regrets about getting drunk my first night here and spilling all the drama about my ex-boyfriend to a bartender, but at least it made us fast friends. Although I’m not sure if Edo just likes the fact that Americans tip, unlike our Italian friends. He always has a way of scamming some extra euros out of me. At least he’s a damn good listener.
I groan and dramatically lean against the bar as I make a proclamation that I wholeheartedly believe.
“I’m never going to get with another guy again. This is it. I’m dying alone.”
I’ve read the statistics. Or at least I’ve read what women on Lipstick Alley say about the statistics. I’m a thick, well-educated black woman who is tired of the dusties and has real ass standards — according to the internet, I’m dying alone.
Edo grins and shakes his head. Since he learned I was American, he’s done everything in my power to take me under his wing since I got here. I just hate getting too far out of my comfort zone, so I’ve ditched all his invitations to visit the local clubs in favor of spending my nights drinking cocktails alone and checking social media. I’m in Italy. I should have daily adventures and bread. I can’t forget the delicious ass bread.
“You will not die alone,” Edo says. “At least not without trying… my latest cocktail creation.”
Edo does a dramatic dance before revealing some clear beverage that looks like some horrible mix of vodka, vermouth and orange juice.
