The Ingredients for Happiness

by Lucy Knott

  ‘Argh, but you need practice for the café; I saw it on your list, and I am happy to be a guinea pig to make sure everything is up to standard.’ Amanda laughed as she walked behind him, watching him casually brush a hand through his wind-styled hair, which of course looked dreamy on him. Amanda wished the wind had that effect on her own locks. They entered the kitchen and she busied herself in the fridge, keeping Dan in her peripheral vision. It was hard to take her eyes off him. She watched as he took off his cardigan, his white tee taught against his muscles. He’d put on a few extra pounds over Christmas and while staying with her these past three weeks. It suited him – filling out his muscles, making his tall frame broader. She loved wrapping her arms around him.

  Speaking of arms, she felt his thick biceps wrap around her shoulders as she collected the ingredients for rum baba. ‘You make a cute guinea pig,’ Amanda said, putting down a pot of cream and reaching up to grab his forearms. She felt safe snuggled up in Dan’s arms.

  ‘Speaking of lists and recipes, how do you know how much of each ingredient to use, my love? There are no measurements for this recipe,’ Dan whispered into her ear, peering over her shoulder at the tatty piece of paper Amanda had scrawled on. Amanda chuckled and squeezed his forearms. Then she shrugged, a smile spreading across her lips and goosebumps tickling her arms.

  ‘Erm, I don’t really know. I guess I just know. When I read it, I see Grandpa and I just do what he did.’ Her smile widened as her words made her think of him. Dan squeezed her back. ‘Your mind is my favourite,’ he said, lovingly, making Amanda’s grin reach her ears.

  ‘Let’s celebrate.’ She reached into the still-open fridge to get the red wine.

  ‘What? My making a cute guinea pig?’ Dan chuckled, making her shiver. Amanda rolled her eyes and wriggled out of his grasp to retrieve two wine glasses. She handed a glass to Dan – who nodded, watching her adoringly from under his long lashes – and filled up both of their glasses.

  ‘To Torta per Tutti,’ Dan said, raising his glass to hers. Amanda’s knees immediately buckled, and she went to sit down at the kitchen table, floored that Dan had remembered the name she and her grandpa had come up with for their dream café, years ago. She had only shared this with Dan on one occasion. Hearing him say it out loud made it more real. She wasn’t just doing this for her, she was doing it for Grandpa too. Dan took a step closer to her, so she had to look up and meet his gaze.

  ‘And to us,’ he added, clinking her glass. They each took a sip, before Dan set about getting the rest of the ingredients for the rum baba out of the fridge. The niggling insecurities she had about her being bad at relationships were the last thing on her mind. She felt every doubt she had ever had about life vanish as she watched him move confidently around her kitchen. If she thought Dan couldn’t get any sexier, she had been very wrong. She stared at him as he put on her apron, pursed his lips and creased his eyebrows in concentration while he read through an Italian recipe, and her heart exploded with happiness.

  Their relationship had been going strong for four years. They had faced loss, fame and distance together. Dan and his forever chilled persona had found solutions to problems without drama; he centred Amanda, they knew each other inside out. Nothing could tear them apart.

  Chapter 2

  Vanilla Tea Cupcake

  Ingredients:

  For the cake:

  4oz sugar

  4oz butter

  All-purpose flour

  1 tbsp vanilla – infused with a few drops of Earl Grey tea

  2 eggs

  1 tsp baking powder

  1-2 tbsp milk

  For the frosting:

  Butter

  Icing sugar

  2 tbsp tea

  1 tsp vanilla

  What to do:

  Cream butter and sugar together.

  Add eggs slowly, then milk.

  Combine baking powder and flour and sift into mixture.

  Add tea and vanilla.

  Stir until combined.

  Scoop into cupcake liners and bake at 180 degrees for around 25 mins or until spaghetti comes out clean.

  Beat butter and icing sugar until desired consistency and add tea and vanilla. (Doesn’t have to be super stiff, it gets too sweet like those American cakes with too much frosting. Keep it fluffy and buttery.)

  Sabrina glanced around the overcrowded coffee shop. In every direction she looked there were people staring at laptops and phone screens; headphones bobbing along to music. Occasionally she had a rare glimpse of people communicating, looking at each other, fully engaged in conversation as they sipped on their vegan chai tea. She had loved LA for its vibrant culture and colourful mix of inhabitants. She didn’t regret her time here for a second but having spent Christmas in Italy with her family she knew going home was the right thing for her. She’d learnt so much during her time in LA, from both the highs and the lows. She had immersed herself in her work, given Lydia and Jones Records her all, but now it was time to really show the music industry what she was made of.

  Since arriving back in LA after the New Year, her phone had been buzzing continuously. The news was out that San Francisco Beat were free agents and that Sabrina was no longer working for Jones Records either. Her first point of call had been to address the situation and so she had made a statement that she was still very much the manager for San Francisco Beat and that yes, they were on the market for a new record deal.

  She sipped her Earl Grey, longing for an Italian espresso, but knowing that over Christmas she had been well and truly spoilt by the fresh Italian coffee her zias made and that here in LA, no matter what Italian brand they used, it just wouldn’t quite be the same. On the other hand, the Earl Grey did satisfy her needs and made her stomach bubble with excitement about getting back to Manchester. She eyed her list of emails, a swarm of potential record labels flooding her brain. When Levi and Dan had asked her to remain their manager she had been thrilled. She had leapt up and down, grateful that she still had a job and overwhelmed and touched that they believed in her. Of course she still felt all those things, but now there was a niggle of nerves partying in her stomach that she was having trouble evicting. This was a huge decision. In this business it was a trying task to stay true to who you were. Record labels could suck the soul right out of a band with the temptation of making millions and making you a star – after all, they knew exactly how to do that. But Sabrina was smart. San Francisco Beat were already a huge success across the USA and were making waves across the pond too, thanks to their last song ‘Need a Little You’ being popular with radio DJ’s. Sabrina had been able to converse with the band’s music publisher on a few occasions without Lydia breathing down her neck. She’d snuck in a few mentions as to what UK radio stations she believed would be a good fit for the band and her moments of bravery had paid off. Sabrina had done her utmost over the last three years to fight for the band and what they represented, despite Jones Records’ best attempts at getting them to strip down to their boxers and create their own perfume; that was wonderful for some acts, but it just wasn’t them. Being their manager, due to her big sister’s meddling, meant Sabrina had a lot of say in their careers. However, with her attachment to Jones Records and working so closely with Lydia as her assistant, Lydia had certainly made this hard for her.

  So now she needed to find a label that would complement her vision and best suit the boys and their sound. Her palms were sweaty as she tapped away at her keyboard, opening proposals and reading through offers. They all sounded good, many highlighting the big clientele that already worked for them and discussing the fame and fortune they could deliver. Sabrina ‘umm’ed and ‘ahh’ed, nothing special leaping out at her. Yes, the boys wanted to be successful. Their lives had changed dramatically over the last three years. They were no longer playing dive bars and small clubs in San Francisco, working part-time jobs to get by; they were playing arenas across America and had all been able to buy houses and pay off their parents’ mortgages. For t
hat they were incredibly grateful, but money did not drive them. Sabrina loved that about them. She kept them grounded and they kept her grounded in this crazy world of showbiz.

  It was vital to her that the label understood who San Francisco Beat were; artists whose music came first. To them it was all about performing and connecting with their audiences, putting on shows that gave people a sense of belonging, checking their egos at the door and providing for their families.

  Thinking of family reminded Sabrina that she had a few texts from her sisters that she needed to reply to. As she picked up her phone to do so, it started ringing – a number flashing across the screen that she didn’t recognize. She hastily accepted the call, keen to stay on top of the requests for San Francisco Beat. Her pulse quickened and the nerves raved on in her belly.

  ‘Hello, is that Sabrina Collins?’ a man’s voice asked rather loudly and forcefully, causing Sabrina to pull the phone away from her ear. She cleared her throat, wanting to sound confident and professional.

  ‘Yes, yes, it is. How can I help you?’ she replied, as she played with the string from the teabag that dangled out of her little teapot.

  ‘I’m Kyle Jennings with Music Life magazine. We’d like to run an article on San Francisco Beat and I want to get the boys in for an interview as soon as possible. They’re in high demand and we want them. You need to be aggressive, love. The boys are hot commodity right now and where are they? Looking at cafés in Manchester and hanging out in skate parks when they should be riding the free-agent wave.’

  Sabrina opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. She didn’t know what to say. The man’s abrupt tone threw her off. While she wanted to appreciate his advice, she was stunned at his rudeness. Then again, she shouldn’t have been. This was LA – where there was money to be made everyone wanted a piece of the action. She sat up straighter in her chair. She currently didn’t have anyone helping her with San Francisco Beat. She couldn’t hide behind publicists or label execs when conflict got too much – she was now the first line of defense where the band were concerned. She certainly didn’t have Lydia’s brazen approach when it came to dealing with people, but she knew she needed to be tougher. She rolled her shoulders back and cleared her throat once more.

  ‘San Francisco Beat are currently on a break. They have families and lives to live, just like the rest of us, and at this time they are not available for interviews,’ Sabrina said as she tugged at her lip, brows furrowed, not wanting the man to get nasty with her, but well aware of how journalists could talk. After the peace and anonymity that Italy had offered, it unnerved Sabrina that the paparazzi were now hounding the boys. They must have spotted Dan in England with Amanda and caught on to both Dylan and James being back at home in San Francisco spending time with their families before the whirlwind of a new record deal had them on the road again.

  ‘Suit yourself, sweetheart, but people don’t want to see the boys on playdates with their other halves. They’re rock stars, they best start acting like it. And they’re talented at that. I just hope you don’t run them into the ground.’ With that he hung up and left Sabrina aggressively stabbing at her vanilla cupcake that donned far too much frosting.

  She put her phone down next to her barely touched cupcake, suddenly having lost her appetite. Come on, Sabrina, she urged herself. You need to pick one. Though she didn’t care for the man’s patronizing tone, he was right. Sabrina couldn’t dawdle forever and stall this next step. She needed to believe in herself and follow her gut. The band’s fans would be waiting for a new album and a new tour; she had to deliver. She drew her eyes back to the screen before remembering her sisters’ texts. She picked up her phone to reply quickly just as Tyler Wall’s name filled the screen. She had to answer. It was Tyler Wall, international rock god and one of her dearest friends.

  ‘Bri, how’s it going hon?’ Tyler’s chirpy voice sang down the line.

  Sabrina eased back into her chair, happy to hear a friendly voice. ‘It’s going wonderfully Ty, how are things with you?’ she answered, dipping the lid of her laptop so her screen would stop judging her. All isn’t one hundred per cent wonderful the screen shouted at her from its display of never-ending emails.

  ‘Good good, flower. I need a favour,’ Tyler said, causing Sabrina to sit up. She would do anything for Tyler, he had done so much for her – giving her her first big break all those years ago during the Leeds music festival and keeping her sane while working for Jones Records.

  ‘Of course, anything,’ she replied enthusiastically, covering her phone-free ear with her hand so she could hear him better.

  ‘There’s this band currently on the market for a record deal and well, my label wants to snap them up. I would be their golden boy if by chance I was able to sweeten up their manager and get them in for a meeting,’ Tyler said.

  Sabrina suddenly felt deflated that without her contacts at Jones Records, she might not be able to help her friend. She didn’t reply straight away but let out a small sigh, trying to think of a plan.

  A few moments passed by as Sabrina racked her brain, ready to break the news to Tyler that she was unable to take her contact list with her.

  ‘Bri, are you still there? Bri, I’m talking about you!!’ Tyler exclaimed with a bark of a laugh which Sabrina could see in her mind. He often threw his head back when something tickled him. She palmed her forehead and blinked back to reality.

  ‘Gosh Tyler, my brain is totally frazzled going through all these emails and phone calls, not to mention packing up my apartment. I was away with the fairies,’ she said and let out an embarrassed laugh. ‘Forgive me.’

  ‘Nothing to forgive hon. You’re a doll. So, what do you say?’ The excitement in Tyler’s voice picked up again, laughter still light in his words.

  Sabrina sat on the edge of her seat, going over what Tyler had offered and trying to compute it. When her brain clicked, she gasped, almost knocking her cupcake to the floor with her knee and getting a few strange looks and the odd smile from the other occupants of the café.

  ‘Yes, Tyler. Oh wow, that would be incredible. Yes, thank you,’ she expressed, with sheer surprise and delight in her tone. Tyler’s record label, City Heights Records, had done a fantastic job with Tyler’s career thus far and more importantly than that, Tyler was extremely happy there, which spoke volumes for them in Sabrina’s eyes.

  ‘Amazing Bri. So, when can you round up the troops?’ Tyler queried, making Sabrina gulp.

  ‘How soon are we talking?’ she asked, a slight wobble in her voice. She picked up her pen and tapped it anxiously against her notebook.

  ‘They were thinking the day after tomorrow. You know what it’s like hon, the ride never stops.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Thank you so much for this Ty. I owe you one. In fact, I probably owe you like three now,’ she said, making Tyler guffaw again.

  They said their goodbyes and Sabrina immediately looked to her calendar, having promised to send Tyler a time for the meeting. It shouldn’t be too difficult, she hoped. Dan was due back from England late tomorrow evening anyway, and she would just have to message Dylan and James and hope she wasn’t interrupting any important family events and that they could fly back tomorrow too. And Levi, well she could just tell Levi the great news when she got home later that day. The excitement bubbling in her stomach tripled with that thought.

  Chapter 3

  Almond Torta

  Ingredients:

  Flour

  Ground almonds

  Butter

  Slivered almonds

  Eggs

  Sugar

  Pretty sure Nanna adds a dash of some liquor (ask her what it is)

  What to do:

  Next time write it down, might be a nice one for blog, and not everyone can read your mind.

  The smell of almond crema pasticcera lingered in the air, mixing with the rich espresso that Louisa and Giulia had indulged in over lunch. Louisa could eat one after another and she di
dn’t think she would ever tire of the sweet and crunchy pastry filled with the most flavourful crema she had ever tasted. Compared to her often-rushed lunches when working back in England as a receptionist, lunchtimes with Giulia here in Italy were like a long weekend. All work was put aside while the focus was placed on the meal they were about to enjoy.

  Sometimes they ventured out for lunch, other times Luca, Louisa’s boyfriend and Giulia’s brother, would whisk Louisa away for a lunchtime adventure, and then other times Giulia and Louisa would set up a picnic in the office, concocting an array of antipasti with fresh meats and breads they picked up from Giulia’s family pasticceria in the morning before their ten-to-fifteen-minute commute to Amalfi from Orzoro. It could take longer when the summer season kicked in, due to the coaches and buses carrying tourists from town to town and fighting over the narrow spaces on the mountain sides. It was one of Louisa’s favourite times of the day and made her love her job even more.

  It had been a month since her sisters and parents had gone back to England after the holidays and staying in Italy had been a dream thus far; though she had to admit there were days when she missed her sisters terribly. She couldn’t help but think of Amanda as the thought of what tomorrow’s lunch would bring danced around in her mind. Right now her big sister would no doubt be mulling over menus for her café. There was scarcely a time when Amanda wasn’t thinking of food; she’d been dreaming up menus since she was a child. Louisa shook her head. She shouldn’t be thinking about food right now; she had actual work to do, if she could call it that.

  Giulia’s boutique was an honest-to-goodness fairytale. Louisa knew she had made the right decision in accepting Giulia’s job offer, upon meeting her and the rest of Luca’s family over Christmas, when she had first laid eyes on the exquisite shop. Gold and pink lettering glazed the shopfront with mannequins dressed in such eye-catching bespoke pieces that they made Louisa’s sketching hand itch. Every day brought a new challenge, be it repairing clothes, working on her own designs or serving customers in the shop and helping them pick out the perfect outfit.