“Not as my date or anything,” I rushed to explain, guessing where his mind had wandered. “I think there are nine or ten of us this year. One more won’t make a difference, especially if you bring a bottle of wine.” I gave him a penetrating stare, almost daring him to accept the invitation.

He chewed his food so slowly, I suspected it was a tactic to stall.

“She’s right,” Kate said. “It’s more of a party than an intimate dinner. You should definitely join us.” She turned to me. “Not that it’s my place to extend invitations to their party, but since Adi already—”

“Shut up, Kate.”

Finn laughed, choking on his food. After a brief moment, he said, “I’d love to.”

“Then it’s settled,” I said, with a nod to seal the deal. “Dinner is at seven, but we’ll leave here at four in case of traffic.”

“I can follow you in my car and drive you back later.”

“You have a car here? I had no idea.”

The look he threw me across the table translated to: There’s a lot you don’t know about me.

To which I responded in my own nonverbal way: No shit. But in exchange for a delicious Gellar feast, the least he could do was divulge some of his own family secrets.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Later that night, sounds of amusement echoed across our dining-room table in Manhattan over my misadventures in Pleasant Hollow. I wasn’t offended by their laughter, because it came from a place of love—at least with respect to my mom, Kate, Diego, Aunt Heather, her partner Regina, and our long-term neighbors and former sometime babysitters Charles and Tesibelle. Finn laughed at me too, but fondness didn’t equal love.

I spooned more tzimmes, a traditional Jewish dish consisting of honey-glazed carrots, dried apricots, prunes, and other sweet ingredients—my favorite of all the sides—onto my plate.

“The results ranged from mortifying to humiliating, but thankfully, nothing was caught on video,” I said, referring to my fruitless attempts to convince local business owners to host cooking contests, beer festivals, and ice-cream socials.

Finn muttered, “That you know of.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and subtly scratched my nose with my middle finger. If he felt shy or out of place, like I’d feared, he faked it well.

Across the table, I caught senior citizens Charles and Tesibelle glancing between Finn and me with hearts in their eyes, and I quickly looked away. Finn was the first guy I’d ever brought home for a holiday dinner, which meant starting tomorrow, they’d probably check their mailbox every day for the save-the-date card. They’d be disappointed, but there was a lot of that going around.

“Maybe you should create a Google alert under your name in case the video evidence goes viral.” Diego cocked one of his dark bushy eyebrows.