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( real life & instagram )
* everything in italics is in italian *
BIANCA ROMANO IS ecstatic for dinner. There is absolutely nothing the woman loves more than meeting new people and feeding them. She does own a restaurant, after all. A small Italian place near the sea that she and her husband opened when they had gotten married and moved to Spain.
After Carlos off-handedly told her that his teammate loves caprese salad and pizza, she changed the entire meal to make those dishes for him. She hasn't stopped talking her daughter's ear off about how excited she is to meet Carlos's teammate. Valerie isn't quite sure what to make of her mother's insistence that everything needs to be perfect for a man she's never even met. It's irritating and, quite frankly, makes her want to rip her hair out.
And maybe Valerie wouldn't mind it if it was anyone but Charles. But for some reason, the fact that it's him makes everything unbearable.
"Stop fooling around and cut the onions properly," her mom chastises.
Valerie pouts. "I am! This is how I always cut them!"
"Well, you need to cut them better."
The brunette narrows her eyes at the older woman. "You're putting in way more effort in this dinner than you have ever."
Bianca scoffs. "I always put in effort in meals. Who do you take me for? Your father?"
"I heard that," another voice comes from the other side of the kitchen.
She waves her husband off. "I just want our guests to enjoy the food, that's all."
Valerie quirks a brow. "The only 'guest' we have is Carlos's teammate. We eat with Carlos and Cami nearly every night. They're hardly guests. And I don't understand why you're putting in so much effort for a random dude."
Bianca slaps her hand. "Oh, hush! It's important to make good first impressions. Charles seems like a lovely young man. Besides, I thought you would be happy. He seems like your type."
Valerie gapes at her mother. From the corner, her father snorts and quickly covers it up with a cough when his daughter turns to glare at him.
"Mother, you are literally delusional. He is not my type at all. He is the furthest thing from my type. He couldn't be further from my type."
"Sure sounds like it."
Valerie glares at Lili who just walked in. She goes to steal an olive from the tray, making Bianca turn to send her a stern look.
