by Lucy Knott
She couldn’t pretend to be any good at blogging, but she did know that her recipes were second to none – her grandpa had told her so. Therefore, she confidently put them out into the world. It was mostly her own experiments and tweaked family recipes from over the years; there were a few sacred family treasures that she kept guarded and couldn’t part with on her blog. She hadn’t the foggiest about brands and didn’t understand sponsored posts or getting advertising offers. It was the one or two positive comments she had received from readers and fellow food enthusiasts that were always more satisfying and Amanda had liked the idea of growing a following and creating an inspired community, over trying to sell products. This community would now include her café. She hoped people who liked her recipes on her blog would be inspired to come and visit her when she opened.
That thought motivated her as she bent down over the table to get a more artistic shot of the table sets and flowers.
‘Boy, have I missed that view.’ Dan’s raspy voice caused fireworks to explode in Amanda’s stomach, sending her body into complete overdrive, while also scaring the bejesus out of her. She spun around with lighting speed, which caused her to catch her ankle on the nearest table leg and promptly fall back with a thud on the wooden floor. Dan’s perfect lips curved into a small smirk as his brows creased with at least some concern, she noted. He had arrived last night, Sabrina and the rest of the band in tow, but jetlag had got to him before Amanda and by the time she got home, after a busy evening perfecting her custard tarts, he was fast asleep. She had woken at the crack of dawn this morning to get to the café and hadn’t wanted to disturb his slumber, content in the knowledge that he was with her once more.
‘That’s going to leave a bruise,’ he said, his voice sending an electric current through Amanda’s body. Dan took a giant step towards her, but instead of taking her hand and helping her up, he sat down in front of her and with his broad physique and strong biceps, pulled her onto his lap. His lips were on hers before Amanda had a chance to say hello.
Amanda kissed him back like he was the only thing keeping her alive, her heart beating erratically. She had missed the taste of him, she had missed his soft wavy hair that her hands were all over, and she had missed the feel of their bodies entwined.
Amanda pulled away and took pleasure in watching Dan’s features for a moment. His eyes remained closed, his eyelashes long, his cheeks flushed, and those lips pressed into the sexiest pout. She couldn’t resist him. As she traced a finger over his lips, he opened his eyes, causing her breath to become ragged once more. She would forever be lost to those soulful rich eyes.
‘Hi,’ she whispered, before gently kissing his nose. The kiss on the nose became a kiss on the lips, before once again they were locked in a make-out session, oblivious to the world around them. This time, after a good five minutes, it was Dan that paused.
‘Do you need me to check on that bruise?’ he asked, his hand grabbing a handful of her bum. Before Amanda could respond Kate and Liam burst through the double doors.
‘Is everything okay out here Amanda?’ Liam shouted, looking around the café before noticing her on the floor sat ever so professionally on Dan’s knee. Her face burnt a rosy hue.
‘Yes, yes, everything is fine,’ she said, trying to get to her feet. A casual innocent laugh escaped Dan’s lips. A laugh that made Amanda’s insides dance. Every now and again Dan had a moment of utter cuteness that stopped Amanda in her tracks. Amanda grabbed his face and planted a kiss on his forehead before turning back to her staff-cum-friends.
Dan rose to his feet, standing a head taller than Liam. His tight black jeans, light-brown knit jumper and shaggy hair made Amanda swoon. By the look on Kate’s face – she was gawping, her mouth wide open – Dan had her spellbound too.
Liam stepped forward, slightly dubious, and held out his hand in greeting. ‘Liam, nice to meet you mate,’ he said. Dan wavered uncharacteristically before shaking Liam’s outstretched hand, but Amanda was too focused on Kate mouthing ‘Oh my gosh,’ to her to notice.
‘Dan, the pleasure’s all mine. What is it that you do here?’ Dan asked. Kate suddenly sprung to life, stepping forward to say hello to Dan and shake his hand before Liam could answer.
‘Hi, I’m Kate. I oversee proceedings out front, serving customers and seeing to it that this one is organized,’ Kate said, her voice an octave higher than normal. Amanda chuckled.
‘Rather you than me,’ Dan replied in reference to Kate’s last comment, resulting in a prod to his ribs from Amanda. He caught her hand and pulled her close to him, still keeping his eyes trained on Kate. ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Kate. I’m sure you will do a wonderful job; the place looks impeccable already.’
‘Thanks, I did most of it myself,’ Liam said in jest, making both Kate and Amanda laugh.
Amanda wrapped her arms around Dan. He must still be shattered. she thought. His usual calm exterior seeming suddenly rigid. ‘He’s not kidding,’ Amanda noted, regarding Liam’s comment. ‘Come on, let me show you around. I tell you, they need to make a simplified version of “Electricity for Dummies” because all those wires are no joke. Liam’s been a godsend. Liam got the electrical outlets working within minutes, the lights are hung to perfection and don’t get me started on the shelves.’ Amanda filled Dan in on every nook and cranny of the café, pointing out special photos, Grandpa’s kitchen equipment and giving him a detailed rundown of the contents of the fridge and the pantry.
Dan listened to her every word. Kate and Liam had waved their goodbyes halfway through the pantry tour, while Amanda was explaining in great detail why the Italian Pernigotti cocoa powder was second to none.
Now Amanda pulled out the focaccia she had made that morning, along with leftover rum cake from the other night from the pantry, and placed them on the kitchen island in front of Dan. Food would wake him up for sure, Amanda thought. She set out olives and sundried tomatoes from the fridge and pulled up the lone kitchen stool for Dan to sit down on and eat. She had missed cooking for him, and she didn’t doubt he’d missed her food. His brown eyes moved adoringly from her to the picnic she had placed before him. He sat on the stool and pulled her in between his legs so she was sandwiched between him and the island, his legs either side of her hips.
Amanda used her hands to layer the rosemary focaccia with sundried tomatoes and a sprinkle of shriveled tiny black olives as Dan’s hands moved towards the cake.
‘Hey, that’s dessert, don’t spoil your palette – you’ve got to try this first,’ she said, whacking his hand away and handing him the focaccia. Dan nibbled on her ear before taking the focaccia and turning slightly so he could take a bite of the bread and not Amanda’s messy bun. Amanda twisted to her side and leant back a touch on her elbow so she could give Dan space to eat and gauge his reaction. She valued his opinion on her cooking.
‘You are an angel,’ he said licking his lips once he’d swallowed the last bite. ‘This place is beyond stunning, baby girl. You’ve outdone yourself.’
Amanda smiled, drinking him in – the dimples in his cheeks and the crinkle in his nose when he looked at her as though she were a precious petal. Only Dan could make her feel so strong when seeing through to her vulnerabilities.
‘So, who’s Liam?’ Dan asked nonchalantly, reaching around her and helping himself to another bite of focaccia, shrugging off his question. Amanda picked at the olives, savouring their rich and bitter taste.
‘Oh, he’s the electrician my dad hired. I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s been a godsend. You wouldn’t believe I couldn’t even get the coffee machine working the other day – the man can do everything. I don’t know how I’d have got this place fixed up without him.’
There was a moment’s silence as Dan shuffled on his chair while Amanda removed the clingfilm from around the cake, filling the room with the most desirable nutty, marzipan scent. She picked at a few crumbs, allowing the soft and gooey dark chocolate to melt on her tongue. Dan rested his hand on the small of
her back.
‘I’m happy that he was here for you. But I’m here now if you need anything doing,’ Dan noted. Amanda caught the dark flicker in his eyes as he spoke, how his shoulders appeared more rounded, his usual charm wavering for a split second. But with the familiar woodsy smell of him mixed with the syrupy cake-induced high, his insecurity was lost on her as she mistook it once more for the grueling schedule of a musician.
‘I appreciate that,’ she said merrily, thrilled with the idea that she could call on him, that he’d be happy to help her, and she would get to live out her dream with him by her side. Dan’s eyes moved around the kitchen, and his chiseled features relaxed as he swept a hand through his messy yet stylish locks.
‘I dig this place, my love. The vibe is all you, all love and warmth. It feels like home.’ Dan’s words hit every corner of Amanda’s soul, making her feel as light as a feather. She scooped up a piece of torta and teased it near his lips. He felt like home to her. It hadn’t been easy being away from him these past two months, she couldn’t deny that, but with Dan’s touch, his hands currently on her hips and his chocolate eyes piercing into hers, being away from him didn’t seem so bad as long as he always came back. Waiting for him would always be worth it.
Dan parted his full lips to take a bite when Amanda pulled the piece of torta away and popped it into her own mouth with a cry of ‘Mmm’ and a wiggle of her eyebrows.
‘Dangerous move, Miss Collins,’ Dan said, jumping off the chair and easily moving Amanda out of the way before rounding the table, picking up the plate that held the torta and swiftly exiting the kitchen. Amanda threw her head back with laughter. Dan couldn’t exactly go far but she admired his need for getting a piece of this cake.
‘Where do you think the other half of that cake has got to, Mister? I’m not chasing you, I’ve already eaten my fair share,’ she shouted through the double doors, her voice still rich with laughter and her heart knowing full well that that wouldn’t stop her eating more if she reached Dan.
‘It’s all mine then,’ Dan shouted back from a cosy table for two opposite the bay window.
‘Well, I wouldn’t say that,’ Amanda said, running over to catch him. Dan took a bit a big chunk of the rich torta and flopped into the nearest chair.
‘What do you do to me, woman?’ he said, closing his eyes to ignite his sense of taste, ridding distractions around him and heightening the pleasure of the cake as it hit his taste buds.
‘Have I told you before that you are my favourite person to cook for?’ Amanda asked. She bent down and wrapping her arms around his neck as he relaxed further into the chair, knowing that she had told him many times before.
Chapter 11
Struffoli
Ingredients:
Gosh, I can’t place Grandpa’s recipe. Think, Amanda, think. He made it up on the spot, it looked kind of similar to zeppole at first.
Flour
An egg (50/50, yes egg, no egg, go with your gut)
Sugar
Lemon and orange zest
What to do:
Form a dough and roll into small balls and fry. That’s all we did, right?
Right, then drain and dust in powdered sugar and more lemon zest and orange zest and a drizzle of honey.
‘Mamma mia,’ Louisa expressed, fanning herself with her itinerary and the papers of notes she had made for each of her models and their outfits. ‘Giulia, it’s hot in here, right? I can’t breathe. It’s not just me? Tell me it’s not just me. I’m sweating too much.’
Giulia was concentrating on hand-stitching the final sequin onto a stunning, sparkling bodysuit with a blue-sequined bandeau, over a pearlized white lace, that fell into a chiffon deep-navy skirt. ‘Che bellissima,’ she marveled to herself, before caving and giving attention to Louisa’s performance. Louisa had learnt over the past twenty-four hours that Giulia was not interested in feeding Louisa’s self-doubt and nerves, she didn’t want to hear them and give them room to breathe. She had made it abundantly clear with every stern blue-eyed glare she sent in Louisa’s direction, followed by a swift change of subject. Today, an hour before Louisa’s outfits were set to hit the runway, was no different.
‘Cara, take this,’ Giulia said, waving a pin cushion, needle, thread and scissors in front of Louisa. Louisa snapped to attention, trying to balance the tools with her buddle of paper, pulling her thoughts away from how sweaty she felt to making sure she didn’t knock over any coffee cups on the makeup counters as she put the tools down.
Once the tools hit the worktop, Louisa was back to frantic pacing and her babble. Her pink kitten heels clicked along the tiled floor of the dressing room, the papers causing a draft and making her hair static as she waved them dramatically once more.
‘It’s just, I know everyone texted this morning – Mum, Dad, Brina and Amanda. I know they’re thinking of me. Gosh, even Dan, Levi, James and Dylan have texted, but they’re not here. Can I really do this without them? Should I have just waited for a time when they could all have been here? I mean, those people out there are really high up in the fashion world and I couldn’t even get through university. I’m way out of my league.’ Louisa was rambling and Giulia was still ignoring her.
Enthusiastic, energetic and bubbly were all words Louisa would have normally used to describe herself. Frazzled, jittery and flustered better described Sabrina, on occasion, but even Sabrina managed to get her ducks in a row and keep it together enough to manage one of the world’s hottest bands.
Louisa glanced over at the beautiful models wearing her creations. They were hardly rock divas with a penchant for tantrums and drama, and this wasn’t exactly One Direction at Madison Square Garden that she was overseeing. She had done the hard part – designing her pieces and choosing what best represented her work, working tirelessly into the night with Giulia to make sure every stitch was perfect. Now, it was her chance to truly bring her vision to life. What was she doing pacing up and down? She was backstage at a runway show, her dream was unfolding right before her eyes and she was watching it in a panicked haze, rather than revelling in every second of it. Get it together, she told herself.
Suddenly Giulia’s hands were on Louisa’s biceps, gently pushing her in the direction of the curtain. Without saying a word Giulia nodded, which Louisa took to mean, ‘Take a look,’ or at least she hoped Giulia was encouraging her to take a peek at the crowd and not suggesting she leave.
Her eyes wandered over the gathering fashionistas and top designers, her heartrate picking up at the thought of being moments away from introducing herself to the world she dreamed to belong to, then it positively exploded when she saw her nanna, zias, Luca, and his mamma and papa, sat amongst the elite. In that moment she recognized Giulia’s lesson without even the need for spoken words. It would not do to dwell on what she was missing and miss out on what was in front of her. If she remembered correctly, this was something Dan had told her last year whilst standing on her zia’s balcony too. Of course, to have experienced this with her sisters would have meant the world and to have her grandpa by her side giving his two cents on colour swatches and patterns would have been everything, but, as she touched her fingers to the delicate white gold star around her neck, the one Sabrina had bought her last Christmas, she knew that those you loved were always with you and that life was all about appreciating the present.
Being present in this moment, she was surrounded by people who cared about her and supported her, and she wanted to make them proud. She was also lucky enough to have people back in Manchester who loved her and were cheering her on through the airwaves. Back home, she hoped Amanda was having the time of her life, that Torta per Tutti was overflowing with satisfied customers, and that Sabrina was taking the music business by storm with San Francisco Beat’s new endeavour. She was damn proud of her sisters, whether she was standing right beside them or a plane ride away. Her eyes glistened as she held back tears and sighed at the joy in her heart at seeing her family in the crowd. There really was no n
eed to be getting herself so worked up – she could do this.
She turned back to Giulia and offered her a grateful smile. Giulia and her gorgeous vixen-red lips returned her smile and tapped at her watch. Smoothing down her bold-pink pencil skirt and fluffing up her white and black polka dot blouse, Louisa stepped up to the model that had been awaiting her attention. She allowed her hand to glide over the chiffon skirt of her sophisticated yet flirty, with that touch of Italian sexy, skirt and crop combo, making sure it was layered over her model just right. This was a design she had fallen in love with as every stitch of it came to life with Giulia’s touch. She hoped onlookers and fashion bloggers the world over would love it too.
Louisa then checked on Mia, a model with poker-straight blonde hair that rested sharply against the high neck of the white and gold Seventies-inspired crochet skater dress, that had been designed by both Giulia and Louisa. Louisa was in awe of the delicate crochet work on the top that Giulia suggested the dress needed. It added the most exquisite vintage Italian feel to the dress and had to be one of Louisa’s favourites.
Caterina, a woman with long, black hair in bouncy curls and still reaching her elbows, looked striking in the red lace-trimmed dress that touched just below her knees with deep-red rose silhouettes around the rim. Louisa could picture Sofia Loren wearing this one. It screamed classic demure meets don’t mess with me. Seeing her work on real people and not just the mannequins at the back of the shop made Louisa’s breath catch. She was really doing this.
‘Dieci minuti!’ a lady with a clipboard announced around Giulia and Louisa’s cubicle.
Giulia stepped away from the five models and clasped her hands together. ‘Bellissima. Brava amore, brava,’ she expressed, giving Louisa a quick hug before noticing a few flyaway hairs on Caterina’s glossy mane. Louisa was momentarily frozen to the spot. Reminding herself of her little pep talk moments ago, she too clasped her hands together, inhaled a massive breath, swallowed forcefully to get rid of the nervous lump in her throat, and prepared to take one giant leap out of her comfort zone.
