#* ∙ ✰ ◞ 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐀 ✗ 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

[lucaderossi]

Who: @juliettevarona | Closed Where: Downtown Cape May

The events of the carnival might have settled for the night, but things were just getting started in the streets of downtown Cape May. Departing from the docks of Waverly Wharf, Luca had eventually found himself at one of the lesser-known establishments, a quaint but delightful bar just north of the beach front. He had been initally hesitant to do so, but after a brief check-in with the staff at the Boiler Room, all of whom had urged him to take the night off, he hardly needed to be told twice. 

In typical fashion, it hadn’t taken long before Luca had struck up conversations with the nearby patrons, who, like him, had made their way over following the conclusion of the festival activities. Following a few rounds of drinks and the emphatic requests of those nearby, he managed to find himself on the karoake stage. Hardly a surprising move, given his propensity for impulse and general enjoyment of the spotlight. He was considering the arrangement he would perform when he saw her, looking even more captivating since their last encounter at the farmer’s market — a feat he wouldn’t have thought possible, until he noticed her across the room. Leave it to Juliette. 

Unsure if it was the alcohol or the nostalgia talking, though he was certain he didn’t care, one way or the other. Hastily approaching the microphone, Luca briefly looked upon Juliette, intently but briefly, soaking in this moment, eager to see the look that would inevitably register on her face when she realized that, not only did they end up at the same bar, but that he was insistent she accompany him onstage. “This first number is really far better suited with a singing partner. How about…” Pausing to quickly gaze across the audience, as if he hadn’t already set his sights on her the second he realized she was here. “You? Hmm? What do you say, sweet cheeks? Join me on stage for a quick one?” he asked with a smirk, waving at Juliette as the crowd erupted in applause, motioning with his index finger for her to accompany him. 

[lucaderossi]

Professionally speaking, Luca was a wearer of many nights. Most nights, it was his toque, embroidered with his surname and matching apron set, courtesy of Nonna De Rossi. But tonight, with a fully-staffed kitchen, his presence hadn't been necessary, and the head chef had opted instead to stop by the bar as a guest, hoping to indulge in his usual Chianti Montalbano before heading out for greener pastures. “JB! The man, the myth, the mythologist of the hour!” Seating himself in the middle of the open bar stools, Luca was quick to engage in greeting the other patrons, before returning his attention to the bartender. “Pour me a glass of my usual, if you wouldn’t mind?” 

Open Starter: Anyone

Where: Boiler Room Bar Time: Start of his shift (6 pm)

Checking his watch, James noticed it was 6 pm and walked behind the bar to begin his shift. He noticed a couple of regulars already nursing their drinks and looked around to see if there was anyone he didn't recognize. Since it was the beginning of his shift, he figured he would take the time to check and see if anyone needed a refill on their drinks as he got settled in for yet another night at The Boiler Room.

[lucaderossi]

Who: Juliette Varona | @juliettevarona (closed) Where: Luca's Residence | The Cove

The pasta was boiling, the sauce was simmering, and the basil had been recently chopped. For Luca and those who currently occupied space in his home, this had meant one thing: preparations for family night were well underway. The event had quickly become a cornerstone among the De Rossi and Peloso families, as well a a handful of others who had been equally regarded as such. Despite the calamity of their daily lives, and the chaos and complexity that it often encompassed, the occasion served as a weekly reminder of what was really important. What it all came down to. This. Them. Family. 

It wouldn’t be much longer before the dinner portion of the evening would commence, and most of the group had retreated to the patio in the meantime, enjoying the view of the golden hour over a round of drinks. The sounds of their laughter and conversation filtered through the windows, as Luca and Nonna worked with their usual vigor and diligence to finalize preparations for tonight’s meal. It wasn’t long before another sound had followed, a distinct and familiar chime that indicated another guest had just arrived. Following a curt nod from Nonna as she pulled the zabaglione dishes from the refrigerator, he excused himself from the kitchen, promising to return as soon as he offered a proper greeting to their visitor. 

Walking with a hastened pace through the foyer, Luca was eager to see who had arrived, though he assumed it would be a guest unfamiliar to him, perhaps one of Abigail’s short-lived suitors or a neighbor coming to indulge in what Nonna referred to as the pinnacle of a home-cooked Italian meal. The guest had certainly been a new one to family night, but their identity was hardly unknown to him, one he never expected to see here, not after countless invitations and requests to join him for dinner on family night were declined or left unanswered entirely. “Juliette,” he managed, voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. An impressive feat, given that the air had been practically been knocked out of him at the sight of her. “You… you’re here? Why are you here?” 

[lucaderossi]

Who: Allegra Ricci | @allegraricci (closed) Where: The Boiler Room | Downtown Cape May

It had been an uncharacteristically slow night at The Boiler Room, one that had allowed Luca to hang up his toque and play mixologist for what little remained of the evening. After releasing most of his staff, though many had promised to swing back around after closing, with a few others opting to stick around to catch the first night of the Yankees double header. Trying his best to enjoy the stagnant pace of the evening, he had been pouring refills for the small group that remained when he saw a familiar but unexpected face walk through the door. “Watch out for her, gents! Nothing but trouble, that one.” A wink and a chuckle accompanied his smirk, an indication to those within the vicinity that his comment was made purely in jest. “Keeping yourself out of trouble, cara mia?” 

[lucaderossi]

Who: @jxttxs | closed Where: Carnival Cook Off, Waverly Wharf

Work hard, play harder. If ever there was a walking and talking embodiment of that mantra, it was Luca. Having fully immersed himself in the festivities of the day, he was determined as ever to continue to his cake and eat it too — or, in this particular case, bistecca alla fiorentina, pasta primavera, and a side of raspberry bombolini. He was hardly going to miss the chance to cook three of his favorite dishes, under the eyes of what promised to be an eager and enthusiastic audience. Sure, he might not be the one indulging in consuming the dishes for himself, but getting to compete alongside JJ in the Carnival Cook Off was an equally satisfying prospect, one that Luca, ever the opportunist, could hardly refuse. 

Packed materials in hand, Luca was quick to locate JJ upon arrival, waving down their culinary counterpart before settling into their designated prep table within the contest area. “Buongorno, amico mio!” Offering a pair of kisses to each of his cheeks, a greeting traditionally reserved for family members and close friends. One in the same, as far as Luca was concerned. “ How about this? Ready to dazzle the masses?” 

[lucaderossi]

Leaving the kitchen in the hands of his sous, Luca was about to begin his usual rounds around The Boiler Room. His routine was always the same: start with the guests seated at the tables, followed by a quick check-in with the patrons in the back booths, and end with a stop at the bar. But for whatever reason, he opted instead to begin at the bar, seating himself at an open bar stool, at the behest of one of the bartenders. That was when he noticed the person to his right, one who seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the last of the food on their plate. It would have hardly have been Luca’s meal of choice, but if the restauranteur knew anything, it was that there was no accounting for taste, particularly at this late hour. “No, no, please, don’t stop on my account. Though, next time, I might suggest someone of your appetite ordering something that doesn't come from the child's menu?” 

Blake didn't want to go out tonight but, his friends begged him to, saying they never got to see him much with how busy his schedule has been. He reluctantly obliged but, ended up being the only person out of the group who wasn't publicly eating tongue with their partner. He took the opportunity to go to the bar counter and order some food, drooling honey all over the biscuits when he noticed a voice speak up from his current group. ❝ Oh this? It's fucking good.. keep doing what you're doing though-- ❞ Stabbing his fork into his French toast, he was beginning to notice an interested person in his conversation, sitting next to him. ❝ You want some or something? ❞

[lucaderossi]

“Yes, but enough about me. This is about you, and your complete and utter lack of festive spontaneity." Nodding in mock concern, Luca was quick to seat himself in an empty chair as he perused the page of designs for himself. When in Rome, as they say. “This bright little sunflower would perfectly compliment those chiseled cheekbones of yours. And I am sure the lovely and talented artists of this booth would agree, yes?” he asked, offering a grin and a wink at the nearby painters before patting the vacant seat beside him, an unspoken invitation for Kaleb to join him.

''you're crazy if i think i'm getting my face painted, now-- quit it and enjoy that deep fried twinkie. you're missin' out.''

[lucaderossi]

“McGill, we go through this every week,” Luca began in mock exasperation, “if you’re trying to get the number for one of my bartenders, I assure you there are far better ways to go about it.” The owner’s features were quick to indicate an equally amused demeanor, after dismissing the young server and grabbing another glass from the nearby liquor rack. “Maybe I can even teach you a decent pickup line or two. I’ve never given much credence to the whole “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” bit, anyway. Over another whiskey neat, perhaps?” 

WITH: open starter ( @capemaystarters )

LOCATION: boiler room

"What the hell?" Hunter said, taking a double glance at his drink. The dim, amber-lit ambiance of the bar couldn't hide his astonishment. He held the glass up to the light, watching the ice cubes bobbing in the golden liquid. "This should be called water on the rocks because why would you add six ice cubes to it?" He shook his head, amusement evident on his face. "It's just water with a hint of whiskey at this point."

[lucaderossi]

Most nights, Luca could be found somewhere within the confines of the Boiler Room, tending to any number of matters that required his attention. But not tonight. He had somehow managed to take the night off, mostly at the behest of his staff, but it hadn’t quite been the evening of rest and relaxation he had in mind. At least, not until he and Blake had returned from the events of their evening. Tonight, that had mostly meant visiting the bars the other male often frequented, before ending up back at the De Rossi household, with the promise that Abi would join them once her evening of club-hopping had also concluded. 

Upon arrival, Luca had been almost immediate in his retreat to the living room, and it wasn’t long before he had fallen into the early stages of sleep upon Blake’s shoulder. A series of chimes had followed at some point, though he had done his best to ignore them, in favor of returning to his restful state. But they didn’t cease, and Luca had let out a series of emphatic groans in response to the noise, and the waves of nausea that accompanied them. Uttering a series of words in response, none of which were discernible, after attempting to shield himself from the noise, using what he thought had been a pillow but had actually been the underside of Blake’s shirt. “Bell. Noise. Loud. Stop!” 

@idkblakee

⤷ location: luca's house ⤷ closed starter for: @lucaderossi

Abigail considered herself to be a homebody, though that didn't keep her from sometimes giving in to her close co-workers' requests and hitting up the newly opened nightclub; Seventh Heaven. Tonight was one of those instances, the brunette's body clad in a short and rather revealing outfit that left little to the imagination.

After several hours spent downing endless vodka red bulls and dancing to their favourite tunes, the group finally decided to part ways and head home, Abi opting for dropping by the gas station first as to grab a snack her inebriated self had been craving.

Thankfully, Luca's home was only a few blocks away and it didn't take long for the woman to reach his front porch, raising her fist to the wooden door while she struggled to her bag of sweets to open.

'Lulu, per favore...' Abigail sighed, her slurred words coming out into a soft whine. 'See, if you don't open the door and help me out with those skittles, I might just cry!'

[lucaderossi]

In an effort to not remain completely miserable, Luca was about to take off in the opposite direction. He needed to direct his focus elsewhere; helping finalize the meal, rearranging the table settings, sticking his head in the microwave. Anything to distract him from her presence. Nonna, however, would have none of it, and, as he glanced down the hallway and into the entrance of the pantry, the matriarch was quick to point a slotted spoon at him in rebuke. A woman infinite in wisdom and sensibility, he suspected she could recognize Juliette’s likeness anywhere, or, as relatives often mentioned, “the reason Lulu hasn’t found himself una moglie yet”. Despite his efforts, it did not look like either of them were going to let him off that easy. 

It was then that Juliette spoke, with what appeared to be genuine intentions, but her words still managed to illicit an instant and practically visceral reaction. “Oh, now you’re concerned with being hospitable?!“ Luca asked, arms flailing and cheeks flushing, unable to mask his incredulity and mounting frustration. But then they caught each other’s gaze, and he saw her — really saw her — and  it wasn’t long before his expression changed to one of earnest affection, watching as she offered the familiar gesture in his direction. Was it really that simple? Could all be forgiven with a simple set of circular movements across the chest? Logically, the resolution offered little finality; there was still much to be discussed, so many things they still needed to work through. But he knew this was the start, and for the first time since New York, Luca felt this might actually lead to a mutually favorable outcome.

Following a deep inhale and naming five nearby items under his breath, he returned the gesture before stepping towards her, arm extended towards her in another gesture of goodwill. “As it turns out, we do have some time before dinner. Can I show you around?” 

There was a vibrant energy that coursed through the household with equal parts love and equal parts chaos. All of her senses were pushed to the limit then between being grabbed, watching illustrious characters come before her with no Abigail in sight, and then catching glimpses of a pained expression that she'd caught on Luca's face. It was the same look he'd show every time she made haste with her departure because looking at him made her remember everything that had happened in New York. Looking at him made her remember just how dynamic of a chef she felt she used to be. The utter thought of failure now seeped into her veins, trickling down until it threatened to freeze up and keep her in her spot, but with the family members pushing her towards the dining room area, she was stunned to see a beautiful spread slowly but surely making its way to the fine table.

She could smell the familiar scent of a garlic and tomato medley, it was definitely a Sunday dinner gravy. Voices chirped to Juliette how Nonna De Rossi made the best red sauce this part of town. Juliette could only politely agree, "Yeah I've had a taste of it before." Then when it seemed all of the general wild energy had taken to the outside balcony, Juliette finally placed her tray down at the first open space she could find. It was filled with cannolis, one side traditional and the other being savory. As she was contemplating how to stack them she heard Luca, instructing her about where the exits were. And if she hadn't been so good at keeping stoic composure around him, she would have broken on the spot.

"It'd be rude to leave when everyone's put in so much time and work into these dishes." Juliette replied simply. She then drew her eyes over to look into his own, really connecting this time rather then trying to brush off what she couldn't say. But soon enough, she put her right hand into a fist and she gently rubbed the area where her heart lay. A symbol of apology, one that they'd learned to use on the brigades they'd worked in. It was often done for when the shouting matches would get too intense or out of line, when there needed to be a budding solution so they could make it to the end of service, and now? Juliette was offering it as an olive branch, one that was long overdue.

[lucaderossi]

“And here I was hoping there might be hope for one of us,” Luca shrugged, being far too acquainted with the prospect, as of late. The events that had recently unfolded in his personal life had certainly been… troublesome, to say the least. But, if nothing else, he was grateful to enjoy the company of someone who understood. 

The patrons returned their attention to the game soon enough, affording the long-time friends to have a proper conversation, as Allegra announced her upcoming date. Luca is hardly surprised; had she not been one of his oldest friends — practically family at this point — he might have asked her to accompany him for a night at Willow Creek or Aretha’s, maybe even a quick excursion to New York. Still, it was a refreshing sight to see, watching her speak with such anticipation and enthusiasm.

“A date? An outfit? Now you’re speaking my language!” Luca asked, his response matching her own excitement as he inquired about her romantic prospects. “Well, don’t hold out on me now, faccia bella! Details, details!” 

𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐘 goes to The Boiler Room, that night she wanted to see Luca. She misses him. With the busy schedule, she got herself into, she wasn't able to socialize with a few of her friends. He was the first friend she made when she moved to the USA. ❛ Meeh? How dare you stain my reputation? ❜ She says jokily when some eyes now was on her. Surprisingly enough, the Italian woman was a bit shy, her cheeks went automatically into the crimson shade. ❛ I don't follow troubles but troubles follow me. I should be the one to ask you the same thing! I need to you come over to my place to help me to pick some clothing. I'm going out for a date. ❜ There is a hint of excitement in her tone.

🌸 @lucaderossi

[lucaderossi]

Knowing this could have gone one of two ways, and she could have just as easily told him to get bent — and would have likely found particular joy in doing so — Luca’s relief was palpable when he saw her walking towards the stage. He tried his best to hide it, though, feeling every bit the cheery and care-free kid in the candy store, he suspected his excitement was hardly transparent. Making a mental note to blame it on the alcohol if mentioned, he motioned towards the spot they would share on the stage, hands moving closer to her waist as they navigated towards center stage together. They lingered at her side for much longer than was necessary, but she didn’t seem to pay his movements much mind, and, despite his growing reluctance in doing so, he pulled himself away. 

“What, Absinthe Martinis not within your flavor palette, dollface?” In truth, the beverage — his third of the evening — involved much less of the former and mostly dissolved into a mixture of watered-down gin, but she didn’t need to know that. It was far more entertaining for him that way. True to form, Luca added further insult to injury, grabbing his drink and taking another sip, indulging in the contents of the glass and the look that had since spread across Juliette’s face. Taking in each sensation, he wasn’t sure which was more pungent, more intoxicating. All he knew for certain was that he wanted to savor this moment, as long or as short-lived as it would prove to be. Given the track record of their last few encounters, the latter option was the far more likely possibility. “You look good, Varona. Who knew you were this well-suited to bad karaoke bar lighting?” 

As things winded down with the festival and her roll of tickets rang dry, Juliette found herself in a routine that quite honestly she was fine with. She would either be sequestered in Bella Vida Cafe's kitchen trying out new bakery items or she would be sequestered at her dwelling with the Hewitt's where it seemed kids were cycling in and out throughout all hours of the day, all of them jovial and slowly getting used to her continued presence there. It made her ache for the family she'd left behind, though she had been the one denying any of the Varona's calls of late.

She was prepared to stay in for the evening to take care of the kids once again, when Nana Hewitt physically had to shove Juliette out of the house, demanding that she take life like the wind, allow it to land her somewhere worthwhile. She also voiced that she was concerned that Juliette was simply working too hard with no reprieve, which the chef could have easily disputed but she wasn't going to go toe-to-toe with the matriarch. Soon enough, she was dressed up with everywhere to go, she'd been scoped out on the street to go to an afterparty, plenty of others asked if she was heading to the club. But instead she found herself at a humble but crowded karaoke bar.

Just as she was ordering herself a drink, she could hear an uproarious sound of applause, it wasn't almost deafening. But then a small spotlight came over here and as she was briefly blinded by the light, her eyes followed the light to exactly where the source of what had caused the uproar was -- in true fashion, dressed to the nines and with that stupid lopsided grin was Luca. Didn't lightning have a rarity in striking people? She wondered why her luck wasn't in the very phenomenon striking her down now. His index finger beckoned her and she felt a slight sense of panic and lividity brewing all at once. Yet her stupid feet guided her up to the stage and she found herself pushing away his head. One step closer and she was hit with the familiar smell of his cologne, he hadn't changed it. But then the smell of alcohol fell from his mouth and she had to cough. "Jesus, De Rossi, sure you don't need a mint first?" It was instinctual to goad him, but even more so she hated how her body betrayed her, why the fuck was she blushing?

[lucaderossi]

It did not appear that third time was the charm. Not where Luca and Juliette were concerned, anyway. If their previous meetings at the farmer’s market or the karaoke bar hadn’t been any indication, this encounter was quickly proving to be equally disastrous. And that was without having the presence of several relatives to contend with, during a dinner and social affair that was likely to extend into the early hours of the morning. Whatever it was the night had in store, it certainly wasn’t going to bode well for him. 

The realization that her presence had nothing to do with his numerous invitations incited a feeling of despondent disappointment within Luca — one he knew well, where Juliette was concerned — but before he could attempt to manage a response, his relatives had stormed the entrance of the home, bombarding each of them with just about every form of ill-mannered but well-intentioned commentary. Through the noise, he called out to his younger cousin for an explanation, along with a few other choice words in Italian, quick in realizing his request had fallen on deaf ears — or, in this case, a pair that had long since departed from the vicinity of the hallway. 

After being passed among the crowd, a pair of dishes and a wine bottle made their way back to him, and Luca, in a physically and vocally begrudging manner, grabbed each of the items as they were handed to him. Once the excitement of her arrival had dissapated, the majority of the group retreated back to the patio, though he was quick to notice that Juliette still lingered nearby. Up until now, he had been resigned to keep his distance from her, he was determined to keep his distance from her. It had clearly been what she wanted, and he wasn’t going to continue to chase after her like some feeble lovesick puppy. At least, that was the explanation he had offered to Abigail, and the few others who had been familiar with the nature of their… entanglement. In truth, he couldn’t bare the sight of another departure, watching her walk away, time and time again, despite his desperate pleas for her to stay. 

“The patio door is through the kitchen, the back door is down the hall and through the garage, and the front door is to your immediate left.” Sensing a slight hesitation on her behalf, he clarified the need for his comment, with a tone that was equally telling. “When you need to make your quick and inevitable exit tonight. Those are your three options.” 

Juliette had done well in immersing herself in everything that had to do with the cafe', focusing on the Hewitt's, and generally envisioning food and how it would fit on a plate as of late. She certainly was not thinking about the chance meeting at the farmers market where she booked it upon seeing Luca's confused face, nor was she thinking about their exchange at the karaoke bar where it seemed temperaments were being tested where once again she walked away from him. The only safe places it seemed for her to be was the cafe, inside her room at home, and now this undisclosed address that Abigail had texted her with promises of new sights and new tastes. Generally, she would have thought the actress was pulling a fast one on her, but tonight she chose to believe her, especially if it meant new food to try.

Armed with a nice bottle of wine and an appetizer that she hoped would compliment the dinner, Juliette waited on the front steps after she rang the doorbell hearing a myriad of sound in the background. This must of been one hell of a party. But again, Juliette found herself staring at the damned familiar face for now what appeared to be their third chance meeting. This time her gut had steered her wrong and if Abigail was somewhere in the recesses of the home she'd have to speak to her stat. His whisper was alarming considering everyone else past him seemed to be talking at high volume. "Why are you whispering?" She managed to stumble out, before ruffling her hair and pointing the direction of the living room. "Abigail told me this was a food tasting party."

Aren't you going to let your guest in? Juliette peered over Luca's shoulder to see an older woman who had the same facial structure and glistening eyes that had inquisitive questions that she didn't know she could answer. That isn't Abigail's guest? Another voice questioned. Couldn't be, look at Luca he's stiff as a board! The final voice resounded. But before Juliette could try to object to coming in, several pairs of hands were on her and dragging her in, taking her dishes and her wine, putting another glass of wine gingerly into her hands, introducing themselves at top volume. It seemed she was in for one hell of an evening. With Luca's immediate family.