Grey
Having visited Lucca's Italian restaurant many times over the years, there are a few things I've come to expect. The first is the porcelain statue of a fat chef they keep on every table. He sits there and guards the salt and pepper shakers like a pro. The next is good food. Not just good food, but pasta that's made fresh every day. I'm pretty impressed with that one. I tried making pasta with Emily once, and it wasn't exactly the hardest thing in the world, but I have no idea how anyone could make enough fresh pasta for an entire restaurant full of people.
The third and final thing I've come to expect from Lucca's is the music. It's kind of cheesy and cliché, but it's familiar and nice. I feel like I'm at home when I'm here. It's like family, and sometimes I worry Emily and I are lacking in those regards. I mean, we have family, but...
I don't know. You know what I mean?
We have Fiona, too, and I guess she's kind of like family. Speaking of Fiona...
One thing I don't expect when I come to Lucca's Italian restaurant is having my little sister's best friend try to play footsy with me under the table while my sister sits there, oblivious, eating her ravioli. I thought we had an understanding, Fiona? Why are you doing this to me?
I glare at her to try and get her to stop, but she just smiles sweetly at me like she's some kind of angel or something. Emily looks up from her food and glances over at me, at which point I kind of have to stop glaring at Fiona.
"Are you alright, Daddy?" Emily asks me. "You aren't eating?"
"Maybe he's distracted," Fiona says, winking at me quick before Emily notices.
"Oh, are you?" Emily asks.
"No," I say, gruff. I ignore Fiona's foot playing with mine and stab a piece of my chicken florentine, then shove it in my mouth. "I'm fine."
"Oh no..." Emily says, shaking her head.
Fiona's shoe is off now. She teases her toes up and under my pants, making skin to skin contact. I'm really fucking tempted to just kick her foot away, but with Emily right there, I'm not sure I can get away with it without her asking questions.
And then what do I say? Yeah, don't worry about it, Emily. Fiona's just playing footsies with me. No big deal. It's probably because I spanked her earlier and got her off. I thought we had a talk about this, but...
Yeah. Not doing it. You couldn't pay me enough.
"You like someone, don't you?" Emily asks me. "Who is it?"
Even Fiona blushes at that one. She stops playing with my foot and my leg, too.
"Uh, what?" I ask. "I have no clue what you're talking about."
"Is it a girl from work?" Emily asks.
"Emily, I don't have a crush on a girl at work," I tell her.
"Is it the waitress?"
"No, it's not the waitress."
"Is it... one of your clients? Is it a neighbor? Did you meet her in the grocery store? Have you gone on a date with her yet? When are you going to ask her out?"
"No. There's no girl. I don't like anyone. I have absolutely no interest in anyone whatsoever."
"Oh," Emily says, pausing to think. Then she starts to grin and laugh before she says anything else. Eventually she manages to spit it out, giggling uncontrollably the whole time. "Is it... Fiona?"
Fuck.
Uh...
Fiona's face radiates heat. Seriously, she might as well be the sun right now. I can feel it from here, and I'm pretty sure I could get a tan from her face alone. She swirls pasta around on her plate, but instead of taking a bite, she just keeps swirling and swirling it. Emily's over here cracking up, acting like she just told the funniest joke in the world.
I'm eating chicken. I can't do this.
"Sorry!" Emily says. "I was just teasing you two. Did you know Fiona has a crush on someone, Daddy? She won't tell me who, though. She won't admit it, either. I don't know why. Isn't that silly? I mean, like... really now... if you have a crush on someone, you should probably just tell them. Maybe it's good to do something instead of telling them, though. Just go up and kiss them, you know? What do you think?"
"If Fiona has a crush on someone, I don't think she should just go up and kiss them," I say. "You don't know what kind of guy they are. He might get the wrong idea. That's how you get pregnant."
"Um, you don't get pregnant from kissing someone?" Emily says. "Even I know that."
"Yeah, well, what if he thinks the kiss means he has a free pass into your pants?" I ask.
"I guess..." Emily says with a shrug. "If Fiona likes him he's probably nice, though. She doesn't date anyone, so if she's got a crush, I bet she knows him better than that."
"That's what you think," I say, trying to steer this conversation somewhere else. "You never know, though. People keep secrets, Emily. It's not good to rush... into... anything..."
That last part? Where I stumble on my words? Yeah, that's because Fiona's foot is massaging my crotch. She went back to playing footsy with me, and I thought I had a great idea by ignoring her, but, no, I didn't. It wasn't a good idea at all, because what the fuck am I supposed to do now?
"I mean, you have a good point," Emily says, while her friend's toes curl around the outline of my shaft through my pants. "Maybe Fiona should invite him to the house sometime so you can meet him then?"
"Maybe Fiona should stop--" I start to say out loud without realizing it.
Yeah, I almost just told my sister maybe Fiona should stop feeling up my cock with her foot. Seriously, this is hard, and I'm hard, and this is hard. Everything's fucking hard today. It's difficult and it's hard, and I'm pissed off about all of it.
"You can't just stop liking someone," Emily says, confident and matter-of-fact. "It doesn't work like that."
"No, it doesn't," Fiona agrees with a nod. "But it doesn't matter, because Emily's wrong. I thought I liked someone, but I found out he's an asshole."
"Whoa, Fifi!" Emily says, laughing. "That's harsh. Who is it?"
"He's probably not an asshole," I say. "He probably just realizes that things could never work between you two for a lot of reasons. Just because you like someone doesn't mean you can be with them."
"Well... no!" Fiona says. "That's not true."
"It's definitely true."
"Are you two alright?" Emily asks. "Is this because you're hungry? I get kind of angry when I'm hungry, too. Just eat some food and it'll be fine. I'm halfway done my plate and it looks like both of you have barely started."
Yeah, well, you know what? I cut off a few more pieces of my chicken florentine and shove them in my mouth. Fiona glides her toes up and down my shaft a few more times before pulling her foot away. She twirls pasta onto her fork, plops it in her mouth, and chews defiantly.
"I'm going to the bathroom," Fiona says once she's done chewing.
She's got plenty more on her plate, so if Emily's hunger-anger theory is correct, Fiona's still plenty angry because she's barely eaten anything.
"Do you want me to come with you?" Emily asks.
"What's with girls and going to the bathroom together?" I ask them.
Emily makes a face at me like it should be obvious. Neither of them answers me, though. Emily slides out of our romantic table booth and lets Fiona out. And then, stomp stomp stomp, Fiona stomps away towards the bathroom in her strappy fucking sandals.
Seriously, you have no fucking clue how much I still want to spank that ass right now.