Page 68 of Falling for Mr. October

We had something special once. Let’s keep those memories good.

EMAILS FROM STRANGERS

Giovanni, I want to have your babies.

Do you have an agent, Giovanni? I represent several celebrity chefs, including Brent Marks from Shitty Cooking. I could take you places. Can we talk?

Giovanni, are the rights to your life story available? I can see you and Bianca making movie magic.

I’ve gotten so many messages over the last week, they’re like voices competing for the limited real estate in my head. Everyone seems to want something, and the pressure is like a building storm.

I know I’m fucking up, not answering that agent, ignoring the questions about film rights, but my body seizes up every time I try to start a response to anyone. In fact, it happens every time I think of doing anything proactive about my situation other than interacting with the fans who show up at the pumpkin patch.

The pumpkin patch is open from twelve to seven, seven days a week until Halloween, which makes for a busy week, each day blending into the next.

On Monday, Mr. Mayor comes by with Jason and a couple of young people with cell phones. He presents me with a wardrobe of Sir Gala-Head clothing and makes sure to record the whole interaction. Apparently, I’m expected to wear something with Sir Gala-Head on it at all times as part of my unasked for and unpaid position as Mr. October.

Lucky me.

But I’ll do it, because the location for the apple pie bake-off has officially been changed on the town whiteboard, and everyone knows it’s being held at Evergreens & Apples.

As part of his publicity stunt, Mr. Mayor asks me on camera what I like best about Apple Ridge, which gives me an opportunity to report that the part I like best is enjoying myself with my gorgeous girlfriend.

He leaves with a sour look on his face.

The people who have been coming by to see me want to know all about Bianca, of course, and I tell an embellished version of the story of our first kiss. I also tell them something true: she always made me want to prove myself, right from the first time we pulled into their driveway and found the Murphy kids waiting for us.

I know I’m kicking the can, waiting to make the decision that might change everything, but I don’t know what to do. So, in usual Giovanni fashion, I find other things to focus on.

I pick up some WD-40 and oil the hinges on the front door of the farmhouse, I fix the burner on the stove that didn’t work, and then I put on my “Smut Slut” hat and go to the grocery store to grab supplies for the s’mores experiment. A few people point at me, but I’m not sure if it’s the hat they’re into, or if they recognize me as Mr. October or the Shirtless Chef.

Emily stops by the pumpkin patch with Bianca on Wednesday, around lunchtime. I make a big show of greeting Bianca, getting up from behind the desk and dipping her in front of the customers. She agreed that I could kiss her for the cameras, and I’ll admit that I’m going to take that liberty while I can. Being close to her is easily the best part of my day.

Several people take photos of us kissing. One woman gushes that Bianca is the luckiest person alive.

“No, that’s me,” I say, releasing Bianca.

She turns toward Emily, flushed. “Give him the book. We have to get back to work.”

I lean over to catch a glimpse at the book in Emily’s hand: What Color Is Your Parachute?

I look at Emily with a dubious expression. “My nonna told me I can’t go skydiving again. It was a real rush, but the last time I did it, she nearly had a heart attack. I’ve already given her enough near heart attacks. My siblings say I’m past my quota.”

“It’s a metaphor,” says Emily dryly. “You’ll be staying on the ground for this one. It’s self-help.”

I dart a glance at Bianca. “Did you tell your friend I’m fucked up? That was supposed to stay between us.”

“We tell each other everything,” she says.

“Well, shit.” I nod toward Emily. “I figured you’d give me some smut to read.”

“Did you want smut?”

“I don’t know, maybe. My sister and I are looking for something new to read together.”

Bianca smiles, and I soak it up. I’m a man who likes good things, and there’s simply nothing better than this woman’s smiles. “You’re still doing your book club?”

“It’s a way to stay close to Aria while she’s in Greece. I miss the hell out of her, if you want to know the truth, but she’s pursuing her dream. I’ve got to support that.”