Page 5 of Forty, Flirty & Fake-ly Yours

The group of twelve that was once twenty starts to disperse, and as I watch them, I sigh, cleaning up.

The backroom of local Seattle Italian restaurant La Famiglia smells of garlic, Nonna Flora’s famous arancini and comfort. But there’s nothing comforting about the additional empty chairs we’re seeing each week.

I turn to my newest hire. “We’re going to need run more local ads. Maybe put up more fliers in the Meet Cute Coffee Co.?”

My best friend’s sister rises from her seat. Scrolling Instagram instead of taking notes, the strawberry-blonde I’ve known since she was in braces takes a deep breath and lets it go.

“I’m trying, Roz. But it’s hard. I mean, we’re in the thick of the dating app era. People tend not to show up for in-person events anymore.”

“Why?” I fold an empty chair. “Is real-life talking too much? Aren’t people’s thumbs tired from all the texting at this point?”

Sarah, one of our regulars, dawdles near the double doors as the last person before her leaves. “I know my thumbs are tired.”

Dani turns to her. “We’re talking about texting. Not ‘double-clicking your mouse’.”

“Oh.”

My best friend—and chief of staff—Olivia Parker chooses that as the moment to stand from behind the desk she’s been occupying all night. “Hey, I’d say our services still work. Danihere,” she nods at her sister, “has been using the Sunday group to find dates every night.”

I blink. “Really?”

“Hey!” Dani protests. “I haven’t done that in weeks. Not since you hired me a month ago. I’m actually using this app called SecureMatch. It’s really cool…”

“Ugh,” I groan. “Traitor. That’s everything we’re against.” I glance at the ceiling. “Guys, we need to start thinking outside of the box.” I look out the window at the January rain that perfectly matches my mood. “I thought we’d use this extra time to?—“

“Freak the hell out.” Dani lifts her chocolate-brown eyes to meet mine. “Roz, let’s put the pause on finding Thursday night leads. Not before you see this.”

“Whatever it is can wait—” I stop when I see her expression. It’s her ‘drama incoming’ face. Last time I saw that, she discovered her ex was dating her yoga instructor. “What is it?”

“Joel and Samantha are engaged.”

The room goes silent except for the rain and a pan crashing in the kitchen. The resident chef Luigi, probably stress-cooking again.

I take a measured breath, smoothing my wrap dress. “Oh?”

"'Oh?' That's your response? Dani's reddish-blonde curls bounce as she thrusts her phone in my face. Through her smudged screen protector, I see Joel and Samantha beaming, her hand prominently displaying a massive diamond. Behind them, the Four Seasons Penthouse Ballroom sparkles, showcasing Seattle's rainy skyline.

My skyline. My venue.

Or they used to be. Back when we were married.

“That’s... interesting timing,” I say, resisting the urge to choke on nothing but air.

Olivia moves closer. Dark-haired and 5'10" in tonight’s pairof stilettos, she towers over my 5'8" frame.. "Roz, honey, you're gripping that wineglass like it’s Joel’s neck.”

I glance down at my white-knuckled grip. "I'm fine."

“If you were any more fine, that glass would be in shards.”

"Ladies!" Nonna Flora—the owner of La Famiglia— bursts through the swinging doors from the kitchen, flour dusting her silver hair. “I can’t believe you almost leave without seeing Nonna!”

She rushes up to me, kissing my cheeks—though she has to stretch to reach them. She takes a step back. “Why you look so sad?”

I open my mouth, but Dani beats me to it.

“Because, Nonna Flora, that dung-beetle ex-husband of Roz’s is marrying that insipid cousin of hers.”

Nonna Flora’s eyebrows crease together. “Cousin?”

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