AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“And here we are running ourselves ragged in a different city every night,” I say, “When other people get to stay home with popcorn.”
The waiter comes to take our orders. I order Caccio e Pepe, and Vince orders penne a la vodka.
“Fair warning, this pasta will make every other pasta seem like a depressing, paltry comparison for the rest of your life,” Vince says.
“Thanks for setting me up for a lifetime of disappointment.”
“It’s what I do best.”
I laugh, “I beg to differ. Today’s been amazing,” I reach across the table and grab his hand.
“It doesn’t have to stop here. Do you like dancing?” Vince asks.
I pause, I’m not much of a clubbing person, but it would be fun to go with Vince. “What kind of club?” I ask.
“If I tell you it’s the kind you’d like and that I want to surprise you, would you trust me?”
I thought back to my previous boyfriends and their attempts at surprises: Diego, who took me mountain climbing when I was afraid of heights; Joey, who tried to surprise me on tour last summer, but the reservation fell through, so we ended up eating at a shitty diner.
I didn’t have the best track record with romance or surprises, but Vince was different. I wanted to see what he thought I liked; I was curious.
“Sure,” I say.
The waiter brought out our food. I stared at the gorgeous, glistening mountain of spaghetti dotted with bits of pepper. My stomach growled. Vince dug into his Penne.
“Okay, when I eat this, I’m going to look unhinged,” I warn Vince.
He shrugs, “Go for it. You don’t have to impress me. Enjoy your pasta.”
I take a forkful and shove it into my mouth. It’s mind-blowing. The sauce looks deceptively simple, like an alfredo. Still, I can taste a fantastic medley of fresh, gooey cheeses: parmesan reggiano, alfredo, and a hint of fontina, all blending with hints of fresh pepper. Vince is right; it’s revelatory.
“Okay, now I’m adding to the rider that we need to stop here at least once a week,” I say.
“Right?!” Vince exclaims as he scrapes more sauce onto a noodle.
“I must admit, growing up in the UK, we didn’t have the best Italian food. The first time I went here, I practically lost my mind. I ate two servings of spaghetti. They gave me a T-shirt. I think I still have it.”
“You grew up without pasta? That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. What’s next? You’re an orphan?”
“Nah, Loretta and Alan Exter are 91 and still kicking.”
“That’s amazing. Any siblings?” I ask. I realize this is the first opportunity I’ve had to ask Vince basic questions about his life uninterrupted and how I barely know him.
“Just one. I’ve got an older brother named Michael. He used to work Merch for us back in the nineties. Now he owns a screen-printing company in Bristol.”
“Does it get lonely having your family back in the UK?” I ask. My mom can be a handful, but I can’t imagine not being on the same continent as her.
“It was at first, but Priya and the guys are my family now. You can have a family in all sorts of ways, y’know?”
“Yeah, my best friend Allison is basically my sister.”
“So, you don’t have any siblings?”
“Nope. Just me. My parents are divorced. My dad’s a tax accountant; he loves to text me and beg me to set up a 401k.
“And your mum?”
“Oh, Mikki Vynse would pee herself if she knew we were on a date,” I say. I can feel a blush creeping up my cheeks.
