@ariadnacampbell
Although Elisabeth and Ravenna’s Carlo were natural adversaries, it wasn’t unlikely for them to join forces in common causes, such as tragedies, family emergencies, and their mutual disgust for vegetables.
Today was D. all of the above.
Declaring ceasefire, Carlo—Alessandro, until the crisis passed—had knocked on the door of her office two minutes after Ravena had texted them in the group chat, and fifty-eight before their double date of doom at... whatever she'd said the place was called. Healthy Life Something. Elisabeth had never been there—duh—but she knew the concept all too well: broccoli, hummus, so-called smoothies that were all green and yucky, and countless other abominations Ravenna and Vittorio were willing to replace real food with just because they were scared of getting fat.
Well, y’all live off buffalo grass then. I sure as hell ain’t gonna.
“Hurry up!“ she hissed, holding the restaurant door open.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty.“ Alessandro’s voice oozed with sarcasm as he lifted the haul—a family size bag of chips, cinnamon buns from Cake Fairy, ten Snickers bars, and two Happy Meals—in his hands for emphasis.
A scoff. As if he’d carried them all the way from Mordor. “Just leave it here.” Her chin jutted towards a free table. “And order those pizzas already.“
“Let's go over the plan one more time,“ he said, hands on hips, towering over her with that insufferable holier-than-thou expression. “When we order, I spill something on my shirt, get the food from the car, and hide in the bathroom. What do you do when the lunch arrives?
Elisabeth scoffed again. “Lunch.“
“Stay with me, Tay Tay.“
“I pretend I'm takin’ an important phone call and come join you. I’m pretty sure my peasant brain can remember that much.”
No sassy retort. A frown crossed his features. “What if they catch us?“
She rolled her eyes so hard she thought she’d go blind. Honestly, the man couldn’t even belch without writing down Belch in three days in his planner first.
“We say we're havin’ an affair,“ she quipped, nudging him towards the counter. “Now go. And get us couple of muffins too, just in case.“
If nothing else, they could smuggle those inside in their pockets. They would do. The place wasn't neither Giuseppe's nor her daughter’s bakery, but the desserts were decent enough. The interior was much smaller and cozier too. She used to come here with—
“Ariadna.“
The new Lakewood Mayor had just entered the restaurant. Both women stopped in their tracks, gazes locking together. Talk about awkward.
It took less than a heartbeat for Elisabeth to compose herself, but it was still too long.
“Darlin'.“ She beamed. “How are you?” Tone it down now. “I'm awfully sorry we couldn't make it to the service. My husband was out of town, and, well—“ I didn't want to come come without a plan. Wailing annoys me, also. She reached for Ariadna’s hands, so warm in comparison to hers, and gave them a gentle squeeze. “My condolences.“ The sigh that followed, the heart-wrenching sympathy in her voice, all—in her humble opinion—the usual level of Oscarworthy. But she couldn’t resist: she had to smile. “Or should I say, congratulations?“