"Pen, it's time for the smashing of the vase!" Felicity hollered, skidding to a halt in front of her.
Penelope smiled fondly. Her sister had been married for less than an hour and she was practically glowing like a lightning bug and bursting with energy.
"The what now?" She asked, amused.
Felicity bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet as if she couldn't contain her excitement. "It's tradition. Peppino says the maid of honor smashes a vase, and however many pieces it breaks into, that's the number of years she wishes a happy marriage for the couple," she explained giddily. So smash it to smithereens," she demanded, her tone suddenly serious.
Simple enough, Penelope thought as she stood in the middle of the dancefloor, holding a beautifully crafted vase in one hand. "Abbondanza!" She cheered, throwing the vase hard, watching in mortification as it hit the ground with a thud, completely intact. The room stared on silently and she could only giggle nervously, reaching for the vase and chucking it again, determined that her sister's marriage be filled with happiness. Once again, the vase didn't even crack. Now Penelope was getting annoyed. "What is this thing made out of?" She muttered, picking it up and throwing it at a wall, only for it to smash into a table of champagne flutes, narrowly missing Guiseppe's grandmother. Penelope winced. "Does that count?" Felicity shook her head, looking thoroughly disappointed. "Right. I got this." She took the microphone stand off the stage and began beating the vase repeatedly. "Hah! I chipped it!" She cried in victory, continuing her attacks on the defenseless piece of china. "Why. Won't. You. Just. Break!" She growled, bludgeoning it.
Suddenly, one hand wrapped around her waist, the other grabbing the microphone stand from her. "Careful, love, don't hurt yourself," he whispered. "Let me." He picked up the vase and threw it at the wall with ease. She huffed and folded her arms over her chest as it shattered to hundreds of pieces. Everyone cheered and went back to partying, her sister smiling with relief.
"I almost had it," Penelope said stubbornly.
"Sure you did," the unfairly handsome blue-eyed stranger replied with a smug grin. "Besides, it's their fault for asking a forrest fairy to smash that thing."
Penelope scoffed in offense, just realizing how much taller he was than her. Most people were taller than her, but she could climb this man like a tree. She quickly forced the thoughts from her head. "Oh shut up, you giant. Nice ringtone, by the way."
"You liked that, did you?"
She hummed in agreement. "It's not every day I meet someone as clumsy and unlucky as myself." The man chuckled, his smile nearly making her melt. Sure, love was off the table, but she could still have sex. She was a red-blooded woman after all.
"I lost a bet to the priest last night actually. He already cleaned me out of my poker chips, so he made me switch my ringtone to Umbrella. Big Rhianna fan I guess."
Penelope snorted. "Really unlucky then."
"I rather think my luck is turning around. Colin Bridgerton," he introduced, holding out a hand for her to shake.
And just like that, her focus shifted back to work. "Wait, are you thee Colin Bridgerton, as in 'An Englishman In'?"
"Yeah, how did you...?"
She took his hand and shook it eagerly. "Penelope Featherington, junior editor for Whistledown Magazine."
Colin took his hand back, his expression guarded. "Ah, the same one I've been avoiding phone calls from for the last three weeks. Did you follow me to Rome so you could convince me to feature in your magazine?" He asked, half joking.
