Chapter 3

3

“ T his can’t keep happening,” Nicola protested, trying to pull the heavy quilt over her naked body. “You can’t keep coming through my window, Declan, you’re compromising my virtue.”

“I’ll be compromising more than your virtue tonight,” Declan growled, striding towards the four-poster bed. He stood at the end of the bed, pulling his dun-brown linen shirt over his head. Nicola, pressed up against the wall as far as she could get, couldn’t take her eyes off of the dark whorls of hair on his muscled chest. She knew it would feel silky and warm under her fingers, and she longed to touch it.

But then what he’d said penetrated the fog of her growing desire. “Compromise more… Declan, no, we can’t!” She clutched the quilt more tightly. “My father will kill us both.”

“Nay, he’ll have no choice but to marry ye to me at last. And if he tries to kill me, he’ll sore regret it, lass.” His eyes crackled with dark fire. “I love ye, Nicola. I want to take you back to Inverary as my lady. I’ll not wait any longer, nor make you wait…”

Ruby slammed her laptop shut and packed it away into her messenger bag. Declan was getting a little more non-consensual than she’d preferred, and she needed a break from him so she could figure out how to move forward with more enthusiastic participation from the lust-filled but reticent Nicola.

She looked around at the coffee shop Sasha had suggested for their first Story Matching Sunday, as Ruby was calling the knowledge exchanging sessions. It was a nice place, she thought. Not as boho-glitzy as the Indigo Lounge, more of a cozy, ersatz-Tuscan grandma’s house vibe with white-painted stucco walls and curated clutter everywhere. Ruby observed rococo frames on the Renaissance-esque art prints, gold-trimmed edges on the handpainted porcelain vases holding elaborate bouquets of silk flowers, and lots of cherubs hanging on the walls. The furniture was an eclectic assortment of battered, overstuffed chairs and mismatched old tables. Yes. It was nice here.

The coffee hadn’t been bad either—not as good as Natalie’s, but definitely serviceable, and it came with a tasty amaretto biscotti. She hoped the food was good, too. Ruby’s stomach growled. She was ready to eat a proper lunch now, but Sasha hadn’t arrived yet, and Ruby didn’t want to be rude and start without her.

Usually on a Sunday, Ruby joined the core Indigo Lounge gang—Esme, her wife Nora, Cam, Mia Cortés, Esme’s daughter Holly, Deborah and Sasha—for a multi-hour picnic hike in the Hollywood Hills. It was a welcome time in the sun with her friends and generally a good break away from her desk. But this week she’d begged off in favor of getting more work done on her brooding Highlander romance.

Sasha had gone on the hike, but she’d said she’d be at the Villa Primavera Café by 3 PM. They’d spent the week putting together lists of what they each knew about the other and were going to swap them and expand on them today, just to get them started. But Sasha wasn’t here.

Ruby checked her phone. No messages, and it was 3:15 PM. It wasn’t like Sasha to be late for anything.

Just then, the little cowbells on the café door jingled, and Ruby twisted to peer around the fraying wing of her chair. Finally!

Sasha stood in the doorway, looking around the busy café. Ruby raised a hand to wave her over. I see why she was late , Ruby thought. She’d expected Sasha to show up straight from the hike, in her usual beat-up black denim shorts, an old sleeveless t-shirt, her ancient brown leather hiking boots and a red bandana over her short curly crop.

Instead, Sasha seemed to have made an effort at a level Ruby didn’t recall seeing before. She’d clearly gone home and showered off the grime of the Hills first. And she was wearing an ensemble Ruby didn’t see her in often, a neat black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, good black jeans without a rip or stray string in sight, and her best black combat boots.

In contrast, Ruby had shown up in black yoga leggings, lipstick-red Birkenstock clogs, and a long t-shirt that had once been black but was now an indeterminate depressing gray. Sasha’s short hair was styled so that her dark quiff of curls drooped dashingly over her brow. Ruby’s red mop was about two days past needing a wash, loaded with dry shampoo, and she’d only just managed to wrestle it all into a bun. She and her clothes were otherwise clean, but she felt very sloppy and not put together at all. Sasha, on the other hand, looked amazing, and Ruby could see other women in the café surreptitiously checking her out.

It was mortifying.

“Rubes, you look great.” Sasha sat down in the lilac wing chair opposite Ruby and smiled. “How was writing?”

Ruby stared at her friend. “I look great? I look dragged through a hedge backwards, Sash. By a bear. You look amazing, I’m a mess.”

“Nah, I just wanted to show you that I clean up pretty good.” Sasha spread out her arms to show off and beamed. “You won’t have to worry about me looking scruffy in front of your fam.”

“I wasn’t worried at all, but I will say I appreciate your concern. You’re going to do fine.” More than fine, really. Sasha looked better than any of the guys Ruby’s sister and cousins had ever brought home, and Ruby knew for a fact she was a thousand times more respectable as a soft-spoken and talented chef. She’d be proud to have Sasha on her arm at Danny and Angela’s wedding, she realized, and was pleased.

Sasha seemed to blush, and then fumbled for a menu from the little holder at the center of the table. “Have you eaten yet? The food here is so good.”

“I had a coffee, but I was waiting for you.” Ruby plucked up a menu for herself and opened it. She’d tried to look at it before, but everything sounded great, and it had only made her hungrier. The same thing was happening now, and she couldn’t decide.

The menu was whisked out of her hands. Startled, Ruby looked up to see Sasha grinning at her. “Hey. You trust me?”

“Always,” Ruby replied, puzzled.

“OK. Let me handle this. I know what hunger does to you, and I know what you’ll like.” Closing the menus, Sasha waved a lanky redheaded waiter over. “Hi, Benji.”

“Sash! Great to see you again. You want your usual?”

“Sure thing, Benji. And listen, for my friend here, can Frankie make the roasted deli chicken and arugula sandwich with herbed goat cheese and red pepper pesto? And the marinated mushrooms and olives with bocconcini, please.” Sasha tapped her chin. “And the raspberry cannoli for dessert.”

Benji winked at Ruby as he wrote the order down. “You’re gonna love it. Sash and our chef went to culinary school together, so she knows what Frankie does best.”

“It sounds amazing,” Ruby said, and blushed as her stomach growled loudly. Benji and Sasha chuckled.

“I’ll get the appetizer plate out here fast,” Benji promised, stuffing his notebook into the pocket of his apron.

When he’d departed, Ruby tilted her head and smiled at Sasha. “So you really do come here a lot.”

“Sure, Frankie and I go way back, and we support each other’s places. You’ll probably recognize her when she brings the appetizer out, she’s at the Lounge all the time.” Sasha looked thoughtful. “Actually, she’s hooked up with Cam a couple of times in the past.”

“Who hasn’t?” Ruby laughed. “I’ll look forward to meeting her properly. But hey, can we get started with our little note swap? It’ll take my mind off the food while we wait.”

Sasha asked. “Didn’t eat breakfast, did you?”

“I did! I mean, I had a Pop-Tart and a raspberry smoothie…” Ruby thought back over the many hours she’d spent foodless. “I did forget to eat a snack, though.”

“I don’t know how you survive, Rubes. You need someone to look after you.” Sasha looked like she might be blushing. But before Ruby could decide for sure if she was, Sasha pulled out her phone and busied herself pulling up the Notes app. “OK. So, here’s what I know about you.” She passed the phone over.

Ruby pulled up her own list and handed her phone to Sasha. She was shocked to see the length of the neatly categorized list about herself. Compared to her own hurriedly written list about Sasha, this was a novel. It was embarrassing how short she’d come up. She was an author! Supposedly writers were the best observers of people and Sasha was a friend she cared about a great deal. Yet her notes felt like a pathetic grocery list. Sasha, though, knew so much about her, Ruby couldn’t take it in. She must talk about herself so much for Sasha to know all this.

Ruby Margarita Fierelli, Age 35

Food: Loves fruit and vegetables. Eats meat, but not on pizza—never on pizza! Sweet potato chips are a fave, mango-passionfruit milkshakes too. Hates any seafood except for shrimp. Not a breakfast fan, big on lunch. Forgets to eat.

Drink: Prefers Diet Coke over anything. Drinks coffee, smoothies, sometimes fizzy water. Iced tea is a no. Likes dirty martinis or hard cider for alcoholic beverages.

Family: Has one older sister (Rose), two older brothers (Domenic and Dante, twins), one younger brother (Daniel). Mom is Elena, Dad is Dom but they call him Papa Dom. Many, many aunts, uncles and cousins. Born and raised on Staten Island. Catholic. Parents are second-generation Italian Americans.

School: Graduated from Our Lady of the Sacred Heart girls’ Catholic high school in NY. Did all right enough to get scholarships. Went to UCLA for a BFA in Creative Writing. Decided to stay in LA after, tried to write screenplays but didn’t like it. Worked as a receptionist at a car dealership, wrote in her free time. Self-published a few romance novels for fun and got picked up by a publisher. Between the self-pubs and publisher and some ghostwriting, she has been able to support herself on writing for five years now.

Pet: Has a Scottie named Winston. He’s ten and Ruby makes his food herself. Likes to play ball, doesn’t love noise. A Good Boy.

Music: Likes Fall Out Boy, old Panic! At The Disco, Paramore. Seems to have had a Taylor Swift phase in college—only ever heard her listen to that Speak Now album. Discovered Phoebe Bridgers and Chappell Roan in the last year and enjoys them enough to have gone to concerts. Does not usually like going to concerts, too many people.

Hobbies: Hiking, writing, sometimes attempts to crochet things but has yet to complete a project. Likes watching crime dramas. Otherwise, not many hobbies, works too hard and should take breaks more often.

Ruby had never felt so seen in her life. It made her even more deeply ashamed of how little she’d ever observed about Sasha in return.

Sasha couldn’t look at Ruby. Her friend had handed her a perfectly normal list of things she knew about Sasha. In return, Sasha had basically handed over a stalker’s dossier. Was Ruby going to think she just lurked outside of her apartment building in her spare time? How embarrassing.

Sash - Things To Remember

CIA culinary school in Napa. Also did some other courses elsewhere in the world. Really good at cooking, very imaginative! Comes up with amazing flavor combos people wouldn’t think of. Very conscious of allergens for friends and regulars.

Likes pizza with mortadella and burrata. Drinks rarely—maybe red wine? Craft beer occasionally.

Only child. Mother still lives in (??) Minnesota. Father died sometime when Sash was a teenager.

No pets. Kind enough to take care of Winston when I travel :)

Does not like ice in water.

Always hear her listening to Lilith Fair type music. Lesbian folk?

Goes to the movies when she can, pretty sure she has a FilmForum membership? Does that Polar Bear Club thing too in San Pedro every NYD.

Asian food seems to be her favorite. How come she never cooks anything Asian inspired for the Lounge?

Doesn’t like Nutella. Who doesn’t like Nutella?

The last one made her forget her embarrassment for a moment, and Sasha chuckled. “Someone with a tree-nut allergy doesn’t like Nutella, Rubes.”

Ruby looked up, blue eyes round with astonishment. “You’re allergic to tree nuts?”

“That’s why my pesto at the Lounge doesn’t taste ‘right’ to you. Esme’s budget didn’t stretch to pine nuts for a long time, and I couldn’t use almonds as a cheaper sub because then I couldn’t do taste tests. So, I toast pepitas and use them instead.”

“Oh.” Ruby bit her lip. “Do you carry an Epipen around? I should probably know that if you do.”

“I get one every year just in case, but I’ve never had a severe anaphylactic reaction. Just nausea, some itching, but my throat doesn’t swell up. Still, better safe than sorry.” Sasha paused, thinking about how to break the next piece of news to Ruby. She’d thought she would take this secret to the grave. “Rubes, you should know… I don’t have a pet because I’m allergic to dogs, too, and they’re the only kind of pet I’d want.”

Ruby frowned for a moment, and then gasped as realization hit. “Sash! But you always watch Winston for me!”

Sasha could only shrug sheepishly. “I take Claritin starting a few days before I take him in, and for a few days after you take him home. I also get someone to really deep clean my place afterwards.”

Horror filled Ruby’s eyes before she clapped her hands over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she said, muffled through her fingers. She looked like she was on the verge of tears as she pulled her hands down. “Sasha, I’m so sorry. You should have told me! I could be asking Natalie or Esme or anyone else to watch Winston.”

“Please don’t,” Sasha begged. “Don’t! It’s as close as I’ve ever come to having a pet, and I love Winston. It’s worth the effort to me. I promise if it was a really bad allergy, I’d tell you no, but it’s livable, I swear to you it is.”

Ruby looked like she was about to keep protesting, and her eyes were still shiny. But just as she opened her mouth, Frankie swept in from the kitchen with her tray of marinated goodies and a plate of crunchy, buttery garlic bread crisps. “Ladies! Special delivery.”

It wasn’t the first time Frankie’s jocular attitude and delicious food had broken up an awkward mood for Sasha, and she found herself grateful for her chef friend’s uncanny ability to know when she was needed yet again. Sasha smiled up into Frankie’s wise gray-green eyes and got a knowing wink and nod in return.

Frankie set down her snacky burden and slapped Sasha on the back with a strong hand. “Good to see ya again, Sash. It’s been way too long since you’ve been here.”

“You haven’t been at the Lounge, either,” Sasha pointed out.

“Ah, yeah, but you know, Cam’s been working there a lot lately and things are a little…” Frankie ran a hand through her edgy short dirty-blonde hair and rubbed at the back of her neck. “Eh, you know how it is.”

Ruby’s face went from woeful to intrigued. She propped her chin in her hands and beamed up at Frankie. “I don’t know, I’d like to know. I’m nosy.”

Frankie glanced down at Ruby, then did a double take. Sasha wondered if that was interest she saw in Frankie’s eyes. “I’ve seen you at the Lounge, too. With the laptop.”

“That’s me.” Ruby pointed at her black messenger bag.

“Frankie Mancini, this is Ruby Fierelli.” Sasha gestured between the two of them. “Ruby, Frankie.”

Ruby sat up straight. “Mancini?”

“Fierelli?” Frankie raised one dark eyebrow and grinned. And that was for sure interest in her eyes now. Sasha groaned internally. When Frankie wanted to, she could turn on the charm as high as Cam did, and few could resist. Or wanted to. Plus, she was tall, slender, androgynously sexy and had an aura of the bad girl that a lot of women liked.

Sasha had none of that. She was 5’5, felt like she was built like a female Patton Oswalt, had always been too shy to speak up about her feelings for people. No confidence or charm or anything. If Frankie decided to chase after Ruby, Sasha couldn’t compete.

But to her immense relief, Frankie just winked down at her and grabbed a small wooden chair that was nearby, turning it backwards with a deft twist of her wrist and plopping down into it. She crossed her arms over the back of the chair and leaned forward, grinning. “Queens?”

“Staten Island,” Ruby replied. “How about you?”

“Brooklyn. Public or Catholic high school?”

Ruby rolled her eyes and groaned. “Catholic.”

Frankie’s eyes twinkled. “With the little skirts?”

“Made me who I am today.” Ruby giggled and blushed. Then she reached for one of the skewers of tiny mozzarella balls, olives, and mushrooms. “But you’re avoiding my curiosity. How do you and Cam know eachother?”

“And look there, I have a pair of sandwiches to go finish.” As quickly as she’d sat down, Frankie was back up on her feet. “Sash, always great to see you. Ruby, nice to meet you, let me know how you like your lunch today.” And she scurried off.

Ruby raised an eyebrow at Sasha. “Something I said?”

“Frankie, like Cam, is allergic to talking about anything that might resemble feelings.” Sasha chuckled and picked up her own skewer. “Try your skewer. Frankie won’t tell me what all she puts in the marinade, I can’t even get her to cough up the brand of olive oil.”

Her mouth went dry as she watched Ruby slowly slide a plump, glistening Baby Bella mushroom off of the little wooden skewer and pop it into her mouth. Some of the oily marinade clung to her full bottom lip, making it shine in the sunlight that filled the café. Her eyes closed in blissful delight, and a moan so sweetly filthy it made Sasha squirm in her chair emerged from Ruby’s mouth. “Oh, my God. This is amazing. So simple, but it’s the most delicious thing I’ve had today.”

“Well, you started your day with a Pop Tart, things could only go up from there,” Sasha managed to get out. She couldn’t recall Ruby ever looking or sounding like this over anything she’d made for her. Jealousy made her stomach churn. She looked down and toyed with the skewer she was holding, her appetite gone. Had coming here been a mistake? Sasha was feeling more inadequate by the minute.

Maybe it had been dumb to agree to this silly wedding date scheme. It was exposing her as a weird, insecure, stalkery mess and she didn’t feel like she could do anything right. And it was only their first knowledge swapping session!

The more Ruby got to know her, the less likely Sasha felt it was that she’d ever be able to confess her affections because there was no way Ruby would ever see her as anything but a big snoop who needed to be kept at a very long arms’ length.

It was a relief when the far too smoldery Frankie scampered off back to her kitchen. Ruby had never liked being come onto so strong. Even Cam, the single time she’d tried, hadn’t been so intense.

At heart—and she wore that heart on her sleeve—Ruby Margarita Fierelli was a huge, swoony romantic. That was why she wrote the books that she wrote, one paean to the love she sought after another. Even in Declan and Nicola’s consensually questionable and deeply heterosexual love story, she’d managed to weave in threads of real feeling and intense yearning.

Casual dalliances had never been her thing. Ruby needed connection, a spiritual tie on some level, before she’d even so much as think of kissing anyone. Flirts like Frankie just made her uncomfortable.

Frankie’s culinary skills, though, were certainly on par with Sasha’s, and Ruby was grateful to her friend for recommending Villa Primavera. Just these simple little marinated skewers of deliciousness alone were dreamy, an explosion of complex flavors in her mouth. An instant pick-me-up.

She’d picked all of the mushrooms, olives, and tiny cheese balls off of two skewers and consumed them in a fit of blind gustatory bliss before realizing that Sasha hadn’t moved or eaten a bite. “Sash, what’s up? Don’t leave me to eat all of these alone, because I will.”

Sasha shook her head like she was snapping out of something. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.” She picked up one of the skewers and seemed to examine it with a slightly sour expression on her face.

Ruby blinked. “I know it’s nothing like what you’d have made, Sash, but it’s still really good food, and you recommended this place and even placed our order! Why do you look like it’s personally offended you all of a sudden?”

Quick as a flash, the sourness fled Sasha’s face, and she stuck the skewer into her mouth, pulling a mushroom off with a grin. “You’re right, Rubes. I just had a weird moment. Listen, let’s get back to these lists. Now you know about my allergies. Do you have any?”

“Only to being aggressively flirted with,” Ruby mused, and when Sasha laughed, all of the peculiar awkward tension that had been hovering over them like a first date dissipated.

By the time their incredibly delicious sandwiches arrived, they were well on their way to being the best fake girlfriends in the world.