Holly hooks her arm behind my back and pinches my side.
Message received. Don’t compare your wife to a summer day.
Guess Shakespeare was wrong.
Holly clears her throat. “Thanks for the sweet compliment, Mateo. Rodney, it was good to see you. I see someone I need to talk to.”
He huffs, his cheeks stained red to match his wine.
Holly pulls me away, leading us to the other side of the room. She turns to me, and as her mouth opens her name rings out from someone behind me.
She cringes and her nose scrunches. “Ugh, not Franchesto,” she mutters.
Did she just say Fran-chest-o?
“Come again?”
“His name is Francisco but I call him Franchesto in my head because he always has his shirt half unbuttoned, and his gross chest hair sticks out.”
I look down at my shirt which covers my light dusting of chest hair. “Um, is there something wrong with chest hair?”
Holly looks at me, her cheeks pink as she shakes her head. “No, it’s the fact Francisco oils his chest, and I swear he curls his chest hairs. When he talks he plays with them, twirling them around his fingers. Apparently, it’s attractive to some women. I am not part of that group and never will be because it just—” She mimics gagging and I stifle my laugh. “I wish he would just wear his shirt like a normal person.”
Well I’m glad I don’t have to shave my chest tonight.
I turn as Franchesto calls out Holly’s name again.
She’s right. His white shirt is half unbuttoned, and I get it about the chest hairs. It’s hard to actually look at his face because his chest is just so… shiny. How does it reflect the light like that?
Franchesto starts to speak, his Italian accent as fake curling-wand-curl of his chest hairs. “Holly, my dear, who is this man that hasn’t left your side all night? Were you not going to save me a dance?”
Absolutely not. Franchesto is not going to make moves on my wife.
I hold out my hand for him to shake. “Hello, I’m Mateo, Holly’s husband.”
Franchesto’s jaw drops, and he looks at Holly. I want to roll my eyes at his exaggerated reaction, but I restrain myself.
Frenchesto puts a hand to his oiled chest, one of his fingers twirling the hairs. “Holly, I thought we had something special.”
I place my hand on Holly’s back. Not that she needs my support. Her arms are folded and her face is perfectly serious as she stares down Franchesto. “No, Francisco, you just wanted me to give you a discount if I worked for you.”
Franchesto shrugs, laughing dismissively. “What can I say, Francisco only wants to work with the best, and you are the best. But I also like to keep my money.”
Holly shakes her head. “Which is why I’m not working for you.”
Franchesto’s eyes flash, the first sign of real emotion I’ve seen from him. “Maybe if you worked for me you wouldn’t have had to marry this man who doesn’t have any of the suave I do.”
Suave. I’ll show him suave.
I drop my hand from Holly’s back and grip her hand. “I may not have suave, but Holly likes my rustic style.” I look down into her face and she nods, a tight-lipped smile my only encouragement to keep going. “There’s nothing like fresh fruits and vegetables from a farm to win a woman over.That and the delicious smell of the fields. Have you ever been out to a freshly fertilized field, Franchesto? It smells just as beautiful as you.”
Francisco’s eyes are a blazing fire. I will win our stare-down.
Holly’s fingers tighten, and then her other hand comes up to grip my arm. She tugs me away.
“Good to see you, Francisco. I see my brother nearby.”
Francisco practically bows to Holly who has already turned away from him. She weaves through the crowd, still gripping my hand tightly, until we get to Alex and Reina. I wasn’t expecting them to be at this event tonight, but I should have. Alex's charity contributions have tripled since marrying Reina.
