Chapter 16: First Meet Foul: Chapter 16

“You seem distracted. Why? Tell me everything and don’t leave a detail out because I’ll know.”

My grandma hit me with one of her knitting needles, and I snorted. “Maybe the last guy was right, you are a threat.”

“Can it, Luca Maron Monroe. Is it this girl you brought for a project?” She eyed the door, her impatient gaze almost cheering me up. She’d hit it spot on. Lorelei was the reason for my unfocused thoughts.

“It’s nothing. We’re here for you.” I forced a smile and hated the way her eyes narrowed. She was a damn hawk for knowledge, hunting and flying around until she found her prey, and right now that was me.

“You have never, since you were fourteen, brought a girl to me. Forgive me for having questions, but I’m a bored old woman stuck in this prison, so I need drama. More than hearing about the latest wave of STDs going around this place. Or that Gwen accused Henry of stealing, when we all know Gwen is forgetful as shit and left her necklace at Peter’s place when they hooked up. This place is a brothel, Luca.” She rolled her eyes and sighed.

I laughed for real this time. “Your dramatics have only increased in age.”

“It’s a cycle of life, dear. At some point, you stop caring. I reached that a decade ago, and I’m going senile. Its rude to point it out.”

I squeezed her arm. “Is everyone treating you well here? You eating regularly and able to do what you need?”

“Do not tell me you came down here to fret. I want to see my grandson and live through you. Tell me about the last party. Did you play a drinking game? Did people cheer for you?”

“Why can’t you be normal?” I teased.

“Missed that boat years ago, Luca. Now, who is Lorelei?”

I scratched the back of my neck, wincing at her beady eyes. I knew her. She wouldn’t let this go no matter how hard I avoided it. “She’s the quarterback’s sister. Dean—”

“Romano, yes. I know him. Good arm, good instincts. Have a bet going on with Patricia next door that he’ll kick her precious alum’s ass up north. Put fifty bucks on it.”

“Should you be gambling?”

“Should you be questioning the elderly? Death is on my door, and I do as a please.” She adjusted her gray messy bun and pouted. “You want to deny me joy?”

“Jesus.” I barked out a laugh. “I should be living vicariously through you. You have way more fun than me.”

Her face fell just as a familiar floral scent entered the room. “Hello, hello!” Lorelei said, knocking on the frame. I’d left the door cracked, and she pushed through.

A sudden blast of nerves fluttered in my gut, like pre-game jitters. What if my grandma hated her? Or what if she said something that offended Lorelei? I really wanted these two to get along for some dumb reason I refused to dive into. “Uh, Grandma, this is—”

“Hi, you rascal!” Lorelei walked up to my grandma and held out her hand. “It is an honor to meet you. You have quite the reputation around here, and I am here for it. The bathroom bandit, the party planner, and the dessert diva? You are who I want to be when I grow up.”

“Keep her. I love this girl.” My grandma beamed at her. “I earned those titles the hard way.”

“Has Luca told you anything about my project?”

“No. He refuses to indulge me of anything interesting, instead worrying about me. It’s cute but annoying.”

“Sounds about right.” They snickered like old friends, and something warm as honey formed in my chest.

“So, are you dating him?”

“Ha, no.” Lorelei flashed her eyes at me for a beat before smiling. “I don’t date athletes.”

“Anymore,” I added, giving her a pointed glare. “You have in the past.”

“Correct. I’m sick of someone always putting me last, and with Luca, football is his life. So negative, we are not dating.”

My grandma sighed and looked at me with so much disappointment my toes curled into my boots.

“I can’t afford any distractions.”

“Luca, son, come on.” My grandma closed her eyes. “I’m not getting any younger. If anything, your singlehood is killing me slowly. I need to know you have someone in your corner or I’ll wither away here with worry.”

“Can we chill with the theatrics today? My lord, woman.”

Her lips twitched. “Fine, fine. Now, Lorelei, what is this project about?”

Lorelei’s eyes lit up, and she plopped down on one of the chairs next to my grandma’s couch. “I’m running a marketing campaign for this facility in hopes of getting donations and more people to help out. I spoke with Patrick? I think, yes, Patrick, the owner of the place, and he didn’t really seem to care. He’s letting the youth run wild with the idea and if it helps, then great.”

“Patrick is a stick in the mud.”

“I got similar vibes.”

“One year, I spiked the punch at the Halloween party, and he lost it. Refused to drink any, but many would argue it was our most successful year.”

“Obviously.” Lorelei laughed and a had a twinkle in her eye. She seemed to enjoy herself, and it was silly of me to think these two wouldn’t get along. They were similar spirits, a little mouthy and ballsy.

“What does this campaign have to do with me though?”

“Great question. I’d love to do a profile of some of the residents, put your face, your story, your vibrant personality out there. You’re not just,” Lorelei paused, waved her hands in the air as she frowned. “What’s the right word?”

“Old farts?”

“Yes.” She giggled at my grandma’s answer. “You’re not old farts hiding away and counting down until death. You’re people with personalities and hobbies and goals and incredible lives. I want others to know that too.”

“Hm, it won’t be for some charity thing? They won’t see my face and be like ‘oh, that poor old biddy needs funds?’”

My entire body tightened with unease. I gripped the edge of my chair, about ready to say to hell with this. If my grandma felt upset in any way, the plan was off. I hated seeing her show even a flash of vulnerability in front of Lorelei. She was the strongest human I knew, and if this caused her an ounce of pain, it was done. How Lorelei answered made all the difference. I needed her to have a good excuse, something to make sense of it.

“This absolutely not about charity.” Lorelei set her notepad down and met my grandma’s gaze. Her large brown eyes filled with determination as she said, “That will not happen. Not for a second. You have my word.”

“I trust you, dear.”

“You don’t even know her,” I fired back, still on edge of seeing my grandma display an iota of weakness.

“You wouldn’t even bring her here if you didn’t feel the same.” She patted my hand, her lips curving into a smile. “You annoy me with how much you take care of me, Luca, so yeah, I trust her because you trust her.”

Lorelei wore a huge grin, the top of her cheeks pinkening. I hated that my grandma was right. Crossing my arms, I leaned back into the chair and shrugged. My grandma took that as a sign to continue, and she clapped.

“What do you need from me?”

“Your life story. The weirdest, best moments of your life. What would you want young people to know? Your name is Nanette, right? I’d love a Nanette’s Knowledge or Nanette’s Nuggets of wisdom or something.” Lorelei bit the end of her pen and arched an eyebrow. “Thoughts?”

“Hate the name, love the concept.” My grandma studied her bookshelf where hundreds of thrillers and romances sat. She lived on books and always mentioned how she read every book the facility had.

“Books!” I shouted, making them jump. “Could one of your pushes be to get more books donations here?”

“Oh, of course.” Lorelei wrote so fast there was no way it was legible. “Books, oh, we could get a local author, maybe? I love this. Yes.”

“My grandma is an avid reader and has gone through everything they have. I’ve tried getting her an e-reader, but she fusses over the cost.”

“I can take the bus to the library every other week. I am fine doing that.”

“The bus broke down two months ago, Grandma. You haven’t gone since June.” My tone came out firm. “This place could use donations to get it back to full capacity. That’s what Lorelei wants to do.”

“But why?”

“Because I’m one of those passionate Gen Z kids, and whatever I do has to have meaning. I want to help show who lives here and how the power of words can make a difference.” She shrugged and flashed a goofy grin at my grandma. “Plus, my ex is in the same class as me, and we’re going for the same internship, so I gotta show I’m better than him.”

My grandma’s face lit up. “Yes, this is the drama I’m needing. So, your ex, he’s in your class? That’s horrible.”

“I know.” Lorelei sat back, rolling her eyes. “We thought it was cute last spring, but now I hate it. He wanted to focus on baseball a week before school started, and it’s not even baseball season. I’m a fucking athlete—forgive my language, but since I’m a female… he said it’s not the same. It’s harder for men.”

“Oh, honey.” His grandma clicked her tongue. “We’ll beat him. I’ll do whatever you need. I dated a guy once, back in the eighties, who told me the only thing I was good for was opening my legs.”

“Grandma, Jesus.” I put my hands over my ears, my stomach rolling. “What are you doing?”

“Hush. Now, Lorelei, I slapped him in the face and found out the next week he’d be working in the same building I was in. I’d been promoted to executive assistant, and you know what I did for years?”

“I cannot wait to find out.”

Seeing them get along caused a weird, warm sensation in my chest. My grandma was the most important person in my life, and watching Lorelei bond with her made me think about what-if scenarios. Like what if we dated? My grandma obviously liked her. Or what if we were—no. I had no business thinking about these fantasies.

“Spat in his coffee every single morning. Do I regret it? Not for a second. If anything, I wished I’d done more. So, how’s that for a nugget? When men say stupid things, you don’t get even, you take the lead.”

“God, you’re an idol.” Lorelei wrote a bunch of notes down, and I couldn’t help but admire her long neck and gorgeous hair. We had been so close to kissing, and seeing her chat with my grandma, who was sharing a story I had never heard before?

My damn heart pounded in my chest with a continuous break your rule, break your rule, break your rule.

It was getting harder and harder to not say to hell with it. Lorelei Romano would be my undoing.