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The Ingredients for Happiness
Lucy Knott


Readers love The Ingredients for Happiness! ‘A gorgeous summer read’ ‘Uplifting, funny, romantic and charming’ ‘This book contained all my favourite things – Italian food, entrepreneurship and romance!’ ‘A wonderful, feel good, romantic story’ ‘I really enjoyed every moment of it’ * * * * * * Three sisters, a stash of family recipes, the chance to make their dreams come true… Amanda is about to open her very own café. She has the pastry sorted, but hasn’t a clue about the plumbing. With the love of her life by her side, surely nothing else can go wrong? Sabrina has struck out on her own and is proving to the global music industry she has what it takes. However, balancing the business side of the band with her personal life will end up being more than she bargained for. Louisa is drawing inspiration from the beautiful Amalfi coast, channelling it into creating gorgeous gowns for modern day Sophia Lorens. But putting herself out there in the fashion industry will present its own challenges, even with the ever-supportive Luca by her side. With the right mix of perseverance, love and plenty of Italian delicacies, these three sisters are about to discover that when they support each other, the sky really is the limit!









About the Author (#ufdf17cc8-d7ea-5baf-9534-b23e5b24f5bc)


Lucy Knott is a former professional wrestler with a passion for storytelling. Now, instead of telling her stories in the ring, she’s putting pen to paper, fulfilling another lifelong dream in becoming an Author.

Inspired by her Italian Grandparents, when she is not writing you will most likely find her cooking, baking and devouring Italian food, in addition to learning Italian and daydreaming of trips to Italy.

Along with her twin sister, Kelly, Lucy runs TheBlossomTwins.com (http://TheBlossomTwins.com), where she enthusiastically shares her love for books, baking and Italy, with daily posts, reviews and recipes.

You can find Lucy on Twitter @TheBlossomTwins (http://www.twitter.com/TheBlossomTwins) or @LucyCKnott (http://www.twitter.com/LucyCKnott)




Praise for Lucy Knott from readers: (#ufdf17cc8-d7ea-5baf-9534-b23e5b24f5bc)


‘A wonderful, charming feel-good story’

‘Delicious and heartwarming’

‘I laughed, I cried, and thoroughly enjoyed this book!’

‘A wonderful, and ultimately, uplifting story’

‘This book kept me hooked from the very start’

‘I couldn’t put it down … there is passion, heartbreak, joy and good old fashioned romance!’




Also by Lucy Knott (#ufdf17cc8-d7ea-5baf-9534-b23e5b24f5bc)


How to Bake a New Beginning




The Ingredients for Happiness

LUCY KNOTT








HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019

Copyright © Lucy Knott 2019

Lucy Knott asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © August 2019 ISBN: 9780008336172

Version: 2019-06-24


Table of Contents

Cover (#uf3c47f51-fdd0-550e-8a54-8cf43792b6f8)

About the Author

Praise for Lucy Knott from readers

Also by Lucy Knott

Title Page (#u48c1ee4f-1f2d-5ec6-96ed-b905fce6271b)

Copyright (#u914b0bfc-e35b-5c4f-909b-520c9fdf3f84)

Dedication (#u774d2cb8-be3b-5661-a3ca-25b25a6cb3ec)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Acknowledgements

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader … (#litres_trial_promo)

Keep Reading … (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher


For my family; you are my world.




Chapter 1 (#ulink_0795fed1-273c-57d2-874b-3b339716eade)

Rum Baba


Ingredients:

Flour

Sugar

Eggs

Baking powder

One of those vanilla/baking powder packets with the angel on the front

What to do:

Mix all ingredients together and pour into crème caramel ramekins.

(Wait, what about the rum? Nanna didn’t say rum; she laughed when I mentioned it. Is there no rum in rum baba? Maybe I soak it at the end – I’m certain the one Grandpa made me was soaked in rum.)

Figure out rum.

(Hang on, I think Nanna missed out a few ingredients when she told me. Yeast! Doesn’t Rum Baba have yeast in it?)

Figure out missing ingredients.

The sun was trying with all its might to cast warm rays down on Manchester, but January was having none of it. With every hint of a glow came a grey cloud that swooped in to steal the spotlight. The dreary sky would not be affecting Amanda’s mood today though, she was absolutely not going to let it. She was sure that today they would find her café and her positive energy would make it so. That, and they had to. She was all too aware that Dan needed to get back to LA for label meetings and to discuss the future of San Francisco Beat with Sabrina and his bandmates, but his opinion on her new place was paramount. She clutched his hand tighter; her body had an automatic reflex to her brain thinking about his departure – it did not want to let him go either.

As if reading her mind, and her body, Dan suddenly pulled Amanda into a little side street they were passing and within seconds his hands were in her long, wavy hair and his lips were on hers. Amanda kissed him back with a smile permanently playing at her lips. Since they had both admitted to their feelings for each other in Italy over the holidays, Amanda had come to find out that moments like this happened often when she was ‘more than just friends’ with Dan. His reasoning behind his grand public displays of affection was simple; he couldn’t get enough of her and he told her so. With Amanda not being so great at relationships and her last one being a total wrecking ball, Dan’s ways of showing he clearly only had eyes for her were a welcome change and soothed old rumbling insecurities.

Dan pulled back slowly, biting Amanda’s bottom lip gently as he did so. He had one hand up against the wall and his other still entangled in her hair. When his chocolate eyes met hers, they smiled as bright as his lips, causing dimples to appear in his cheeks. If the kiss hadn’t made her knees buckle, just looking at him would have. As casually as it had started, Dan took her hand and they were back on the pavement heading to their eighth possible café of the day.

Chills surged through Amanda’s body and goose bumps rose on her arms as they neared the building on the corner of the street. One look at Dan and she knew he felt it too; he looked at her and nodded. Past the book shop and next to the tattoo shop was the perfect-shaped building. The worn-down door stood side by side with the tattoo shop to give way to a beautiful bay window that wrapped around the corner of the street.

‘Dan!’ Amanda gasped, clasping her hands together. She wasn’t one to get giddy but then again, she hadn’t believed she would ever be looking to purchase her own café, and here she was.

‘Let’s look inside,’ Dan replied. His face was joyful, but he would not get ahead of himself like Amanda. He was the calm to her storm. He opened the rusty door with a creak and gestured for her to go first.

Amanda’s eyes grew wide as she took in the open square space. Tucked into the left-hand corner at the rear was a built-in bar area. Next to this, two swinging double doors led to the kitchen. Amanda spun around on the spot, catching the estate agent’s eye as she did so.

‘I do apologize for being so rude. Hi, I’m Amanda,’ Amanda said, sticking out a hand. The estate agent took it without making eye contact, and gave her a one-sided smile. He was clearly not too bothered by her rudeness; he seemed quite happy with the other half of her party and couldn’t take his eyes off Dan. Of course, Dan would never be so ignorant as to ignore a person and had not missed a figure in the room upon entering. But Amanda had been sucked into the charm of the building. She didn’t wish to be rude by not joining in the conversation Dan and the estate agent were currently engaged in, but she made her way to the double doors, unable to wait for them to finish talking. She knew that the estate agent would be lost to Dan’s raspy voice for a good fifteen minutes, or for life, and that was a seriously long time to wait when the kitchen was calling her name.

Another gasp escaped Amanda’s lips when she walked through the ‘enter’ side of the double doors. The kitchen, too, was square and in the centre stood a considerable island. It was Amanda’s dream kitchen. Immediately her mind began bursting with visions of where each piece of machinery would go, where Grandpa’s special knick-knacks and tools would be stored. Amanda wondered for a moment why the previous owners had had to give the place up and her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch. This is not the time for doubts Amanda, she thought to herself. You’ve come this far. Just then Dan walked through the door, very, very closely followed by the estate agent. Amanda watched him as he looked around the room and did a double take at the island before giving her his all-encompassing grin. The worry lines on her forehead smoothed out.

‘I love it,’ they said in unison. Amanda walked over to Dan and tip-toed to give him a kiss on the cheek. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she added. From the corner of her eye she could see the estate agent eyeing her up and down and longingly glancing back to Dan.

‘If you love it, it’s yours,’ Dan said softly, giving her a disarming smile and bowing to kiss the top of her head. The estate agent practically melted before them. If Dan knew he had this effect on people, he never let it show. His ego was still very much non-existent and the attention and kindness he gave to everyone never faltered, even after three years of the media being infatuated with him and his every move.

‘I really love it,’ Amanda said softly, staring into Dan’s soulful eyes, before turning on her buckled boots and scanning the kitchen once more. There was an enormous amount of work to be done, but she felt in her bones that this was her place; this was where she was going to build her café. She greatly appreciated Dan’s generous gesture and she would let him do what he wanted for now, because arguing with him over this matter would be like drawing blood from a stone. But she had her own money saved for this such occasion – she had simply been too frightened to use it before now. But with her former sous-chef Jeff, ruining her reputation and giving her the kick up the backside she needed to finally walk away from Rusk, and with the death last year of her grandpa – her role model and the man that inspired her cooking – she had known it was time to take a giant leap of faith and make her and her grandpa’s dream a reality.

She walked in a circle around the island and back through the swinging doors. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she willed her happy thoughts to get to her grandpa, hoping he could see her now, finally going after the dream that had eluded her and scared her silly for years. She had been secretly squirreling away every bit of pocket money he had given her since she was eight years old, ready for this moment. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the thought that this was as much her grandpa’s as it was hers. Taking a deep breath and wiping at her face, she drew her shoulders back and pulled out her phone. She hadn’t had time to think about the time difference; she just hoped that both her sisters were available.

*

After a brief, but positive FaceTime with both Sabrina and Louisa, who both saw the place’s potential and encouraged Amanda to follow her gut, and an excited phone call with her parents, Amanda was ready to give Dan the go-ahead. She would of course email the estate agent and make an appointment to go over the payment plan, but for now Dan could be in charge. If he wanted to read through long pages of contracts, Amanda was more than happy to let him. She had never been one for the fine print and Dan had experience where this was concerned. She more than appreciated his help. He too had shared in this vision with her during the course of their four-year friendship. Besides her family, Dan was her biggest supporter.

With a nod of her head and a pep in her step, Amanda walked over to the estate agent and Dan, who had followed her back out through the double doors, and expressed her keen interest in the vacant café. She saw a twinkle in Dan’s eyes, and he beamed with pride at her.

‘We’ll take it,’ Dan said to the estate agent. The estate agent puffed out his chest and his smile widened. He shuffled through some papers and had Amanda sign a few, just as a security deposit, then reached out to shake their hands. His handshake with Dan was far more enthusiastic than hers, Amanda noted.

It seemed the sky was trying to celebrate with her as they stepped back outside into the January chill; there were a few scattered sun rays lighting up the little establishment overhead and Amanda felt her grandpa’s approval. In her wave of happiness, she hugged the estate agent in thanks, which garnered an actual smile and eye contact. Then Dan handed him his card and told him to message if he ever fancied coming to one of the boys’ shows when they were next in town. With the giddy, slightly unprofessional handshake that followed, Amanda worried for a moment that the estate agent was not going to let go.

The knot in her stomach that had been there all morning had finally untangled and as they walked back to Amanda’s house, she felt a thrill of excitement for this new beginning. The past few months had been tough on her family, with the sudden passing of Grandpa. Louisa had opted to stay in Italy with Nanna and Sabrina was preparing to move back to Manchester after four years of living the high life in LA, now that San Francisco Beat had parted ways with their record label. Life had changed quite drastically for them all. But the decisions had been made and now they had to rise to the challenges they now faced.

With this thought, her excitement faded to fear and she gripped Dan’s hand a little tighter. He would be leaving tomorrow and that wasn’t quite the challenge she wanted to face, which was silly really. She and Dan had spent plenty of time apart over the years – months and months away from each other – and their friendship remained strong. A twinge of the hurt she had felt after Jason tried to shadow and dampen her good vibes. It felt different now. Before, she never cared about the tabloids, the girlfriends and the crazy life thrust into the hands of rock stars; now, the ever-present groupies and parties to attend made her insides squirm, but she was determined not to let those negative thoughts weigh her down. Dan had never given her any reason to worry. She was not about to let her mind play tricks on her. Dan was her best friend first and rock star second.

She wasn’t the jealous type, but whatever was causing her unease definitely felt like jealousy. Years of being relaxed with her ex-boyfriend Jason had only meant that he had cheated on her more times than she cared to remember, and she always forgave him; would Dan do the same? The idea of girls throwing themselves at him no longer made her want to roll her eyes and punch Dan in the arm in playful jest, but instead curl up into a ball and cry. But they were together now and Dan knew that. Dan had wanted that too. And he would be back soon. This jealousy was an imposter and had no place in her heart.

‘Should I be Team Cap or Team Iron Man?’ Dan piped up as they turned onto Amanda’s street. They had been walking in a comfortable silence hand in hand, though it hadn’t been all that silent in Amanda’s head.

‘Huh?’ said Amanda, glancing up at Dan. His wavy hair was getting caught in the breeze and falling in his face. She automatically reached up to brush it behind his ear. He caught her hand when she did so and kissed her palm, sending tingles through her entire body. A teasing smirk appeared on Dan’s handsome face. ‘There seems to be a civil war going on in that brain of yours, baby girl.’

Amanda laughed at Dan’s superhero reference. It was difficult to stay worried and anxious when looking into Dan’s rich brown eyes. They did something to her; they melted away her fears and replaced them with a sense of calm and contentment – as though his own demeanour transferred over to her when she needed it most.

‘No, I’m okay. I can’t believe how perfect the café is. I think Grandpa would have loved it. Thank you for staying with me and helping me look for a place,’ Amanda said, brushing the hand that Dan was still holding close to his lips, over Dan’s cheeks. He was supporting a five o’clock shadow; she enjoyed the feel of his stubble against her fingers and the softness of his skin. He looked edible in his chunky black knit cardigan, jeans and white tee. What was it with men and never getting cold? She herself was wearing her oversized pink teddy coat that kept in all the heat, over a grey woolly jumper, with a scarf for good measure.

‘Of course; I could never deny my best girl when she offers me a proposition,’ Dan replied, referring to New Year’s Eve when they were standing on her zia’s balcony overlooking the Amalfi Coast and she had told Dan that she would only be his ‘sexy’ Manchester tour guide if he helped her search for a café. He’d had the same confident glint in his eye back then at the word ‘proposition’ as he did now. ‘Speaking of which, I have a proposition for you,’ he added, letting go of her hands to allow her to rummage through her bag in search of her keys.

‘You do? I have a feeling this proposition is more suited to that dangerously sexy mind of yours,’ Amanda replied as she unlocked her front door. She was no longer battling with her insecurities. Instead she was just focused on Dan, the moment she was in and what he was going to say.

Dan laughed, a low laugh that made her stomach flip over as they entered the house.

‘I was going to suggest we spend the rest of the day baking together, but if you had other things in mind … I was just thinking rum baba.’ He gave her a sly grin, before kissing the base of her neck along her collarbone as she shimmied out of her coat.

Would she ever not be phased by that voice? Amanda playfully pushed him away.

‘Isn’t a proposition supposed to have something in it for both parties? I somehow only see that being beneficial to you and your budding appetite,’ Amanda said teasingly before shoving Dan towards the kitchen.

‘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 (#ulink_241b04bd-d837-5865-a389-2f7449d97fca)

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 that 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 (#ulink_4e04abf4-8df9-543c-b78f-6b9cd62f3e24)

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 didn’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.

More recently came the added challenge of preparing five impeccable outfits for Italy’s Young Designers Fashion Showcase that was now only a few months away. Giulia had worked her magic and Louisa was the youngest designer on the bill, not to mention the newest. No pressure. Louisa hadn’t been expecting this. Giulia had brought her on board initially to help her with Milan Fashion Week in the autumn but when Louisa had shown Giulia her sketches, Giulia had waved her hands dramatically in the air in typical passionate Italian fashion while shouting ‘Bellissima, bellissima!’ Giulia then proceeded to busy herself with phone calls that Louisa was not to overhear – she would receive a wagging finger if she was caught earwigging – for a few days before she announced the news about the showcase to Louisa. It had all been extremely hush hush with the showcase being a prestigious event and difficult to get a spot at. Louisa felt eternally blessed to have Giulia on her side.

Now Louisa stood with pins in her mouth, eyes like slits, concentrating on getting the perfect fold to the hem of one of the pieces she was making for the showcase – a beautiful crochet-covered, contrasting-collared black and pearl dress – when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She gave a slight jerk as it tickled her thigh and plunged her hand into her cardigan pocket desperate for it not to cut off.

Prodding the mannequin with the pins she was holding, careful not to prick herself, she quickly swiped the green answer button.

‘Amanda, hey,’ she said, loudly, excitement in her voice at being able to speak with her big sister. It had felt like forever, when truthfully it had only been two days, but with Amanda being busy at the café and Sabrina still in LA trying to get the boys a record deal, she hadn’t been hearing from them much.

‘Hey Lou, how’s it going? How’s galivanting around Italy with a drop-dead gorgeous Italian and eating cake the size of a football going?’ Amanda asked. Louisa could almost see her sister playfully smirking down the line.

‘It’s going swimmingly,’ Louisa noted, a smile creeping up on her face as she leaned back, resting against her office chair and eyeing up the dress in front of her. It seemed Amanda had been checking her Instagram – that was at least a good sign where her sister’s blog was concerned. Hopefully Amanda had actually started to understand how to use it.

‘Happy to hear it. So, what’s new?’ Amanda asked. Louisa hopped up on her chair, turning away from the dress that was distracting her from being one hundred per cent present with her sister. She had been waiting patiently to talk to Amanda over the past couple of days, excited to share the showcase news with her. The difficult hem on the dress could wait.

‘I’ve got an incredible opportunity coming up actually that I’ve been dying to tell you about,’ Louisa started, absentmindedly picking up a red pencil crayon and shading in a flared skirt on another design she was working on.

‘Oh yeah, me too, but you first. Tell me, tell me,’ Amanda sang. Louisa smiled; she sure did miss her sister – even the sarcasm and teasing she so often dished out.

‘So, Giulia got me this amazing opportunity to take part in Italy’s Young Designers Fashion Showcase, I still can’t believe it to be honest, but being here, well … I’ve been designing nonstop, it’s like all my passion has coming flooding back, inspiration is everywhere,’ Louisa gushed, pausing in her drawing to gaze out of the office window and into the pretty shop glittering with stunning fabrics and extraordinary pieces. She could just make out the edge of the Pasticceria Pansa sign to the right across the way from their shop. How was this her life now?

‘Lou that’s awesome. Oh, I’m so proud of you. Wow,’ Amanda said, a little breathless, which made Louisa’s smile grow wider. It meant the world to have her sister’s support. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed Amanda’s words to give her that extra boost of confidence. The dress she had been working on today had been bugging her, she just couldn’t get it right. Amanda’s words encouraged her. ‘Maybe if things are going according to schedule here, I can come and watch,’ Amanda added. Louisa shrieked at the thought of her sister coming back again soon. She knew Italy wasn’t far but understood work could get in the way. They had been used to Sabrina living across the world for four years and accepted each other’s dreams. Though Louisa’s cheeks flushed at remembering the times she hadn’t been so understanding of Sabrina being so far from home.

‘Thanks Amanda, that would be lovely. I’d really like that,’ Louisa replied, twirling her crayon between her fingers. ‘So, go on, tell me your news?’

‘Well …’ Amanda paused. If Louisa knew her sister this would be for dramatic effect. ‘I think everything should be set for March 23rd – our opening day, can you believe it?’ Louisa could have sworn her big sister actually squealed. ‘I mean the place is still a mess and I don’t have electricity yet, but you know, that’s the plan.’

‘That’s amazing Amanda, wow. This is a great day for good news. Wait …’ Louisa suddenly felt sweaty as she reached out for her desk calendar. March 23rd, March 23rd, why did it ring a bell?

‘Is everything okay Lou?’ Amanda questioned, her voice holding a hint of concern.

‘Yes, everything’s fine. Just one second,’ Louisa said hastily, flicking through the sheets on the calendar to a month from now. She cast her eyes on March 23rd. Staring back at her, written in bright pink marker and circled with stars either side, was ‘Italy’s Young Designers Fashion Showcase’. Her heart sank.

The showcase was everything her heart desired, but she hadn’t accounted for missing Amanda’s opening day. Just like Amanda had been dreaming of the day, so had Louisa. She couldn’t wait to witness her sister make her dreams come true and honour their grandpa’s dreams too. But she had been working on the pieces for the showcase day and night for a month now and had eagerly, and nervously, been counting down the days to make her entrance into the fashion industry. An opportunity like this was like gold dust. She was an unknown in the fashion world, but with Giulia’s help her designs had slowly been making their rounds within Giulia’s well-connected circle. She couldn’t possibly blow this opportunity and skip out on the showcase and nor did she want to – well, maybe just a little bit now that she had heard Amanda’s news.

‘Lou?’ Amanda’s concerned voice asked again.

‘I’m so sorry Amanda, but I won’t be able to make it. March 23rd is the day of the showcase,’ Louisa informed her big sister, feeling deflated, not only because she wanted to be at Amanda’s grand opening but because she had well and truly been floating on cloud nine at the thought of having her sisters at the showcase with her.

‘That’s okay, Lou,’ Amanda said, though her voice lacked the same enthusiasm as before. ‘You’ll just have to take lots of pictures and we’ll Facetime so neither of us miss out.’

‘Yeah, I guess,’ Louisa replied, shuffling off her stool and tugging the pins from out of the mannequin.

‘Sorry Lou, but come on, you’re going to kick butt at the showcase and my café will hopefully still be here when you’re able to come and visit,’ Amanda said. Louisa noted the slight wobble in her voice though Amanda tried to keep her voice strong. Louisa imagined her sister had plenty to be anxious about with opening her café so she didn’t want to sulk too much or burden her sister with feeling bad about not being able to get to Italy as soon as she had hoped.

‘Sounds good, Amanda. I’m certain it will be. They will be queuing for miles to get a taste of your food,’ Louisa said, a touch spritelier.

‘Thank you, Lou. Right, give my love to that Italian god of yours and I’ll catch you soon.’ They hung up after a chorus of love yous and Louisa willed herself to focus on the task of the disobedient hemline instead of the pity party her brain was conjuring up over not being able to be in two places at once.

*

‘Amore, you are tired no?’ Giulia’s perfectly shaped brows were creased in concern as she took in Louisa. Louisa had spent the past few hours trying to get the correct hemline on her lace piece, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was going to be missing out on a big day in her sister’s life.

In comparison to Giulia, who rivaled Sophia Loren with today’s choice of updo and fitted black dress with blood-red kitten heels, Louisa’s eyes were now dreary, her concealer creased from squinting and wiping at her eyes too much. She had kicked off her heels two hours ago and the chill that ran through her bones over what she was feeling had lent itself to her grabbing one of Luca’s giant hoodies that now hid her demure blouse.

‘Si, ma I’ll be okay,’ Louisa smiled at Giulia. Giulia wandered over to the dress Louisa had been working on and allowed her hands to caress the material as she studied Louisa’s work.

‘E bella. These judges at the showcase are going to be blown away by your pieces,’ Giulia breathed, in admiration of the outfit. Louisa felt inspired by Giulia; everything from her Italian fashion, the way her words came out like a song when she spoke and her girl boss attitude, made Louisa love her that little bit more. She could see so much of Luca in her and was starting to understand their family traits. Since starting work with Giulia a month ago, she had been taken aback with her kindness, her relaxed yet businesslike manner and how much passion she had for her work. It was contagious and something she also caught when spending time with Luca. Their upbeat attitudes and joy of both life and work had been rubbing off on Louisa. Compared to the stress of her old nine-to-five reception job – the harassed looks on her co-workers faces and the constant countdown for the weekend – working with Giulia was complete bliss. Every day was cause for a celebration of amazing food and adventure. Louisa felt calmer than she had ever felt and truly more motivated with her creations.

Giulia stepped back from the garment Louisa had been working on and looked up at the clock.

‘We must get going,’ Giulia said with a sweet smile, the clock having moved to ten past four. It was family time now or time to grab a coffee with friends or prepare the dinner. Work for the day was done, if Louisa could call it work; she loved what she did. As Giulia stepped back, Louisa noticed the pins on her hem had moved. She did a double take as she watched Giulia move towards the door and she herself grabbed her bag. Casting another look at her dress before she followed Giulia’s shouts of ‘Viene, viene, come, come,’ she shook her head. The woman was like her guardian angel sent down by Grandpa to guide Louisa and put her on the right path.

With the hemline now perfect and ready to be sewn in the morning, it gave Louisa a sense of purpose. She appreciated this opportunity that Giulia had given her; she needed to focus on what she was doing and the passion she had inside her and not what she was missing back home. She had given up too easily last time on her fashion dreams at university; now she needed to face the fears of being away from her family and not run back home the minute it got tough.




Chapter 4 (#ulink_68899548-faf9-5efd-8cfb-05afbe203106)

Grandpa’s Focaccia


Ingredients:

1 sachet of yeast

1 cup warm water

1 tsp salt

1 tsp sugar

Sprinkle of fennel seeds

1/3 cup of olive oil

3 ½ cups of Tipo 00 flour

What to do:

Place warm water, salt, sugar and yeast in a bowl. Mix and allow to sit for fifteen minutes.

Add your flour, fennel and olive oil and another dash of salt for more flavour.

Allow to rise for at least an hour, covered under a tea towel and in a warm spot. (Grandpa sometimes placed near radiator.)

Roll out. (You can use a rolling pin or just manipulate it with your hands to make your rectangle shape and prod with your fingers to flatten it. No harm getting stuck in and it makes it more rustic.)

Cover with tea towel on baking sheet for twenty minutes, drizzle with a touch more olive oil, then bake at 180 degrees for 20–25 minutes, until crisp and golden.

When they had returned from Italy in the New Year, Amanda had been a ball of energy – a woman on a mission and a force to be reckoned with. She and Dan had buried themselves in newspapers and estate agent windows, as well as tirelessly wandering the streets of Manchester looking for the perfect location for her café. She was now standing in front of that perfect location, terrified of going inside.

The paperwork had been straightforward, though Amanda had certainly been glad of Dan’s presence. As was the case with her blog and social media, she wasn’t one for reading the fine print, editing, or patience – she just wanted to get in and create her vision. But once the paperwork had cleared, Dan had joined Sabrina and the boys back in LA and Amanda was left to face the task of building a café from the ground up, with no previous experience, knowledge, or known skills when it came to flooring, shop-fitting or that of plumbing or electrical matters. Her dream had quickly turned into a shambles.

The door creaked open and she made a mental note to remember to get WD40 on it sooner rather than later. She stepped over the threshold with her eyes closed and breathed in the smell of plastic and a subtle burning scent. ‘Oh god, what’s that?’ she said out loud. She flicked the light switch and opened her eyes, but nothing happened. When she flicked it again, she heard a click and a hiss and the wire that was dangling from the ceiling sent out a spark. She quickly pulled her phone from her pocket and turned on its flashlight. Newspaper covered the floor in addition to a layer of dust, and the plastic-covered tables and chairs were piled high to one side. The newly painted walls were splotchy, with paint having made its way onto the skirting boards and light fixtures. The place was a mess.

‘Okay Amanda,’ she told herself, ‘you have to fix this. When the electrician comes today, he needs to know that this won’t do, and that you need your kitchen up and running this week.’ She carefully treaded over the newspapers to put her bag down on the bar, still using her phone for light when it started ringing. Her dad’s name appeared on the screen.

‘Hi Dad,’ Amanda answered, as chirpily as she could. ‘How are you?’ She went to lean on the counter but thought better of it with the dust and grime present in a thick layer, so instead hovered by it awkwardly.

‘Hi sweetheart. I wanted to check in on the work at your café. How’s it looking? Do you need any help today?’ he asked. Amanda could hear the pride in his voice when he said, ‘your café’ and she didn’t want to let him down. The girls had been lucky, growing up with parents who supported them in all they wanted to do. Amanda wouldn’t have travelled the world, exploring exotic cuisine or completed her strenuous placements in restaurants over the years if it wasn’t for their encouragement and belief in her that she could do it. Now, with no job and Jeff having tainted her reputation, this café had to work. She wasn’t just doing this for herself and her career, she was doing this for her family.

‘Everything’s fine thanks, Dad. I’ve got it all under control,’ she gulped, looking into the gloomy abyss. He had already helped unload the furniture earlier this week, which he had done with a smile on his face, but Amanda hadn’t missed his occasional pauses where his hands rested on his lower back, while he took in deep breaths, pain crinkling his eyes. He wasn’t as young as he looked and when Amanda had rung her parents’ house at 7 p.m. that evening to thank him once more, her mum had answered and told Amanda she would pass on her message in the morning when her dad woke up. The day had wiped him out. She couldn’t do that to him again. ‘Have a good day, Dad, and I’ll keep you posted,’ she said, ending the call. She glanced around at the dark and dreary shell of a café and then down at her watch.

‘Okay, so the electrician will be here any minute and I’ll just text the decorators and ask when they’ll be coming back to do another coat and final touch ups and clean the sockets and skirtings, then everything really will be fine,’ she said. She walked over to the bay window and rolled up the matte gold blinds that had recently been put in, just enough to let some light in but not enough for onlookers or paparazzi to get a good look. San Francisco Beat were a big deal – the media had already sniffed out Dan’s scent while he was visiting and helping her look for a place.

Thinking of Dan made her pulse quicken but her stomach sink. She missed him like she’d never missed anyone before, and she wished he were with her, making this task feel less daunting than it was. But she understood his work; she knew his life was his band and it made her happy to know that he was living his dream. She had to admit that it felt different now though. He’d been gone three weeks and the distance and time difference had thrown her for a loop. Had it been this difficult to stay in touch when they were just friends? Anyway, she couldn’t think about that right now. She had to get her own dream back on track. Another crackle and spark jolted her from daydreaming of Dan, and she turned abruptly to see that it came from one of the plug sockets by the bar. ‘Any minute now, the electrician will be here,’ she repeated to herself. ‘Any minute now.’

*

The minutes turned into hours. It was now three in the afternoon and thankfully the day was still bright; the sun high above the houses, enough to cast a glow on her café, so she didn’t have to sit in the dark. Amanda was sprawled out on the cold unfinished floor, covered in dust and muck, feeling pretty useless and no longer caring about the state of her clothes. She had been waiting for the electrician since eight o’clock this morning and he still hadn’t turned up. She had received no reply from the decorators, and they were not answering their phone. She was feeling sorry for herself, missing Sabrina’s efficiency in a situation like this and replaying her conversation with Louisa from weeks ago, still feeling gutted that her little sister wasn’t going to make it to her café opening.

This wasn’t like her at all and she hated herself for acting even remotely defeated. Grandpa would be having none of this. If he was here, he would be busy bustling around, making sure everything was done exactly the way he wanted, even if that meant doing it himself. Nothing would interrupt his vision, Amanda thought. With opening day looming in a little over two weeks, she could simply not afford to be sitting on a dirty floor when there was food to be ordered, staff to hire and ‘Electricity for Dummies’ to purchase. By the end of the day she would know how to rewire a light fixture; just because she was a chef, didn’t mean she could not or should not teach herself a bit of electrical DIY. Knowledge was power, her Grandpa would say, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way of whipping up plates upon plates of rich sea salt focaccia to get the neighbours talking.

She jumped up and headed to the door.

*

‘How’s the café coming along?’ Amanda’s face beamed as Nikki’s voice came down the line sounding cheerful. It helped to keep Amanda’s spirits high – either that or she had inhaled more paint fumes than one should. At this point she couldn’t be quite sure, she had been painting all afternoon, having dared to roll up the blinds and let the sunlight illuminate the café. She didn’t quite have Louisa’s creative streak or flare for design, so she had prayed to the painting gods that the walls would not be a complete tragedy when she was done.

But at least the paint was pretty, Amanda thought to herself, as she gazed at the white walls that glittered with gold specs in the flickers of the fading sunlight. She considered Nikki’s question. It felt good to hear Nikki’s voice. Amanda had met Nikki in San Francisco; she had been the one to officially introduce Dan to Amanda and the one to take Amanda under her wing during her time there. They had kept in touch over the years and Amanda hoped to visit her again one day. She had loved San Francisco and Nikki’s feisty attitude, big heart and love of cooking.

‘Oh Nikki, I know it’s come a long way since we started the whole process a few weeks ago; to think we have floors and furniture, a kitted-out kitchen and no holes in the walls now! But I’ll be totally and completely not a monster anymore if we can just get this electricity sorted,’ Amanda said, with a squint of her eyes as she wiped at her brow. She hadn’t meant to be naïve, but she hadn’t accounted for the hiccups. Amanda often saw the big picture and that big picture ninety-nine per cent of the time revolved around the food; thinking about the recipes, when could she go buy the food, when she could start cooking the food, when she could start eating the food and when she could start serving the food. Stopping the process to take pictures or deal with shoddy painters and unequipped electricians was not part of her game plan.

‘I get it hon,’ Nikki started, ‘I’m insanely proud of you, you know,’ she finished with a thoughtful sigh. Amanda plonked herself down on the floor, for fear of leaning on anything and breaking it or smudging it. ‘Thanks Nikki,’ she whispered, feeling grateful to have Nikki on the line. She missed her terribly.

‘How are things over there? How’s the café doing?’ Amanda asked. She thought about Nikki standing behind the counter at Bruno’s, the café that her dad owned and that had been in her family for generations. Amanda’s mind flashed back to the day she first laid eyes on her. Nikki was standing behind the very same counter she was right now at the other end of the phone, with her gorgeous mauve lips, perfect eyebrows and a welcoming beam, and Amanda’s world was forever changed. Nikki became an instant best friend, with their matching passionate attitudes and love of early mornings in the kitchen. She introduced Amanda to all the best food spots Frisco had to offer, allowed her to help at Bruno’s and bake alongside her in their famous kitchen. Amanda had to admit that Nikki got the most brownie points for having introduced her to Dan. Thank you Nikki. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Amanda’s brain sung to itself in a quiet tune. Amanda couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips and reached her eyes when she thought about meeting Dan.

Dan had been playing in Nikki’s café that day, his voice having stopped Amanda in her tracks when she walked into Bruno’s. When he had taken a break from his set, he had made his way over to the counter and after overhearing Amanda rave about the hot chocolate Nikki had served up for her, Dan had requested one of the same. He had then proceeded to talk to Amanda and the moment he did so there had been an invisible string that tied itself around each of their hearts, deeming them inseparable. Granted, him being from San Francisco and Amanda from Manchester, they had of course been physically separated over the years, but that hadn’t stopped them talking on the phone every single day thereafter; bar a couple of months last year when she broke that record when trying to understand her feelings for him. She had eventually figured out those feelings and now her relationship with Dan was more than she ever could have dreamed. Nikki’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

‘Everything’s great thanks, babe. Busy as ever and four years later, your Biscoff cupcakes are still flying off the counter. I still get people asking about you. They want to know where our boy has got to, too,’ Nikki said, a hint of mischief in her tone. ‘Speaking of which, are you keeping him out of trouble?’

Brushing her forefinger over the layer of dust that covered the floor, Amanda hadn’t realized she had absentmindedly been drawing hearts as Nikki spoke. She cleared her throat.

‘He’s great …’ Amanda’s voice sounded wistful; it often did this where Dan was concerned. It was never intended, but without warning her independent bravado turned to mush while her heart melted at his name. It was worse when she missed him too. No matter how hard she fought it, she pined for him when he was away. She was missing a piece of herself and had to keep her mind active and focused, so it didn’t drift off, always thinking and searching for its missing piece. It hadn’t helped that since he went back to LA, they hadn’t been able to speak much. She understood that being free agents meant a lot of work and pressure for the boys, though it was odd for Dan not to reply to messages within ten minutes or for them not to catch up on the phone before bed. She tried to put a stop to her worries and getting the café up and running had been a wonderful, if not stressful, distraction. She didn’t want to burden Nikki with her unwarranted thoughts. She didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Dan had spent Christmas with her, and they had enjoyed an amazing few weeks here in Manchester together, but she knew he would have to get back to work and that things would be extra busy with San Francisco Beat as they prepared to sign a new record deal. Her brain needed to cut him some slack. Thankfully Nikki pulled her out of her thoughts.

‘All this time, I still can’t believe it. You do know I called it that day in the kitchen? You do remember, don’t you? I think your exact words were ‘ewww’,’ Nikki said. Her attempt at a British ‘ewww’ and the memory itself caused them both to howl with laughter. Amanda had indeed said ‘ewww’ when Nikki suggested her and Dan being something more than just friends.

‘Don’t you start!’ Amanda managed through chuckles. ‘I get told “we told you so” at least twice a day from my sisters, I don’t want to hear it from you too,’ she finished, mock-serious.

At that moment there was a loud bang on the door that scared the life out of Amanda. She jumped and very nearly sent her phone flying across the room. She shot to her feet and spun round, squinting to try and make out the figure behind the blinds. It was 5 p.m. – who could be knocking at 5 p.m.?

‘I bloody hope that’s the electrician,’ she said, trepidation in her voice as she tip-toed ever so carefully to the door. It had been a few days now since any reporters had come knocking, but the week that followed her and Dan’s initial visit saw paparazzi hovering nearby, some even knocking on her door and bombarding her with questions. Amanda had kindly sent them away. She hadn’t wanted people to see inside her café. The pressure of making everything perfect was enough without the hassle of flash photography and nosey parkers, and she could do without the likes of her old work partner, Jeff, knowing the ins and outs of what she was up to. He had already tried to sabotage her once before.

‘I’ll stay with you until you see who it is, hon,’ Nikki said gently.

Amanda rubbed at a smudge on the glass before she heard her dad’s voice chatting with what could only be an electrician – if his bold red van that had ‘Frank’s Electrical’ scrawled across the side, was anything to go by. Amanda let out a breath and removed the latch on the door before turning the key in the lock to let them in, while Nikki remained on the line.

‘Hi Dad,’ she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he came through the door. She very nearly repeated the process with the electrician, before remembering she had never met him before. No matter how Italian she was, she somehow didn’t think Frank would appreciate that. She felt her cheeks burn red as she stepped away from him, just slightly awkwardly. Catching his eye, he smiled a handsome smile. He didn’t look like a Frank. His face was young, bearing some fluff. His hair was black, longish and his hands were strong as he shook hers. Amanda felt like she was hallucinating. What was her dad doing here and who was this electrician?

‘I take it you haven’t been kidnapped? The café been ransacked? Or have the cameras just turned up for your new reality TV show?’ Nikki’s voice almost gave Amanda whiplash, as she quickly snapped back into the present, turning her head away from Frank.

‘Just taking this call,’ she shouted to her dad as she stepped into the chilly February evening. How long should one stay in a newly painted room? she asked herself, wafting the breeze in her face with her hand.

‘Sorry Nikki, it was just Dad and Frank. Sorry, an electrician, Frank. Though he doesn’t look like a Frank or an electrician, mind you. He looks like, well, I don’t know what he looks like.’

‘I don’t believe it, you’re swooning over this Frank?’ Nikki said, with a comical, flabbergasted laugh, that made Amanda roll her eyes.

‘I was absolutely not swooning over Frank,’ Amanda said defiantly, mock-offended, but taking in a deep breath as she did so. She hadn’t realized just how antsy she was when it came to the thought of reporters and paparazzi hovering at her door. Amanda wasn’t usually phased when it came to speaking to new people, but even her strong nature could take a beating from reporters trying to stir rumours, asking about Dan’s whereabouts, exes and who she was to him. In addition, they could make you feel quite vulnerable when they sprung up on you unannounced when you were on your own, and that she didn’t care for. She had been grateful to see a kind, friendly, and, okay, handsome face following her dad. Heck she had been grateful to see her dad after being alone all day.

Nikki’s laugh rang down the phone once more. ‘I’m kidding,’ she started. ‘Right, I love you, but I need to get back to my customers and make sure my own café is still afloat.’

‘Oh god, sorry, yes. Thanks for being there for me. I bloody miss you,’ Amanda replied, walking back and forth past her bay window.

‘I bloody miss you too. Be sure to send me a picture of Frank,’ Nikki teased, and Amanda could practically see her winking down the line. Nikki’s injection of British words into her American vocabulary never failed to make Amanda grin.

‘I am not taking pictures of random electricians,’ she replied, stopping in front of the door and nodding at a curious passerby.

‘Why not? It’s not exactly like your one-in-a-million, delicious rock god with a perfectly chiseled jawline and a ridiculously sexy pout boyfriend could possibly get jealous,’ Nikki said. Amanda let out a howl of a laugh as she wiped at her tired eyes. She loved her best friend.

‘I am one hundred per cent going to tell Dan you just said all those nice things about him,’ Amanda noted.

‘Oh, don’t do that, you’ll only go and pump up his ego more,’ Nikki responded with a fake whine in her voice.

‘If Dan had an ego,’ Amanda sighed wistfully. She played with the door handle and looked around at her surroundings. There didn’t seem to be anyone hiding behind telephone poles today.

‘We can create a bad boy rock star out of him yet,’ Nikki replied, making Amanda chuckle once more. ‘In all seriousness, you should take some before and after pictures for your blog. I’m sure that will get some interest and create a buzz before opening day.’

‘Oh shoot, my blog. Nikki I’m going to be completely honest, I’ve not posted at all in the past two months. Everything just got so busy and crazy.’

‘You know, it’s quite comical how much you suck at social media yet run a successful food blog. Well, it might not be successful now you’ve abandoned it and run it into the ground, but …’

‘Are you quite done?’ Amanda interrupted, laughing. ‘I thought you had a café to run two minutes ago?’ She turned the handle on the front door, pushing it open and blinking a few times to adjust her eyes to the darker indoors. ‘And I get your point, thank you for the idea.’

‘You’re welcome. Keep me posted. Love you,’ Nikki said, before Amanda heard the line go dead.

Putting her phone in her pocket, she made her way over to her dad to ask what was going on. When she tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around and answered her question before she had time to ask it.

‘Sweetheart, I appreciate you trying to do this by yourself, but I’m your dad, it’s my job to help. How long were you going to try and work in darkness this evening, with no electricity?’ he asked. Amanda shrugged, for lack of a sensible response. ‘Your mum and I drove past earlier and saw you pottering around in the dark and cold. Really Amanda, it’s okay to ask for help.’ All Amanda could do was hug him. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

Then, trying to push Nikki’s words out of her head – she would not ogle Frank – she tried to act casual, like she hadn’t just been told off by her dad in front of him.

‘So, Frank, do you think you will be able to fix this mess?’ she asked, waving her arms around at the room. Frank had produced a battery-powered wall of spotlights that were now directed at the wiring spewing out of the ceiling.

‘It’s Liam. Frank is my dad’s name, and I think I can,’ Frank replied, with a dashing smile that caused Amanda’s cheeks to flame. Dammit Nikki, she thought to herself.

Saving her from further embarrassment, her phone beeped in her pocket. Amanda returned a smile to Liam and quickly turned away. She found a cooler spot a safe distance away, dug her phone out of her pocket and sat herself back down on the dusty floor. Embarrassment aside, at least she now had one less thing to worry about. Of course Amanda wanted the place to have lights and look pretty, but more than anything she wanted her kitchen up and running so she could begin preparing food for her customers and get the neighbourhood talking about the delicious smells arising from her little corner of the world.

‘Don’t be running off with electricians – if it’s sparks you’re after, I’m watt you’re looking for.’ It took her a minute to understand Dan’s text, but once it registered, Amanda was hunched over in stitches – she had definitely inhaled too many paint fumes today. Her laughter was becoming delirious. The small knot in her stomach at not hearing from Dan as much over the last few days untangled. She breathed a little easier. Before she could tap out her reply her phone beeped again.

‘Too cheesy?’ read Dan’s second text. She quickly replied, ‘Way too cheesy. Xx’ before then firing a text off to Nikki, ‘I thought you had to go and be an adult and run a café? Xx’.




Chapter 5 (#ulink_fdef9c42-3bf6-54f3-8330-f2c80e25908a)

Grandpa’s Pasta Ciotti


Ingredients:

For the dough:

(A bit of this and a bit of that as Grandpa would say, until dough forms.)

Flour

Sugar

Unsalted butter

Milk

Egg

Baking powder

Salt

Vegetable shortening

Vanilla

For the filling:

3 tbsp cornstarch

½ cup sugar

1–1 ½ cups whole milk

2 egg yolks

1 tbsp butter

1 tsp almond extract

What to do:

For the dough:

Combine dry ingredients then add in butter and shortening like you’re making a crumble.

Mix together wet ingredients then add to dry and make a dough.

For the filling:

Like Nanna’s custard, make a roux with cornstarch and sugar. Add milk and eggs and almond extract and keep whisking until thick.

Roll out dough and make shells that fit a cupcake tin.

Spoon in two tbsp custard. Then layer a circle on top.

Refrigerate for 30 mins.

After 30 mins sprinkle with a splash of egg wash and bake for 12–15 mins at 22 degrees.

Once golden, remove and leave to cool.

Serve with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Sabrina began to stir. The golden rays of sunshine had no respect for the current time of 4.30 a.m.; it barged its way in through the curtains without any apologies. Sabrina stretched out her arms and legs so she resembled a starfish, and jumped at a sudden cry of ‘ouch’ as the blanket next to her started to shuffle.

She let out a laugh and a feeble ‘sorry’ as Levi reached under the blanket and grabbed at her daisy print pajama shorts. She tried to smack his hand away, but it was no use – even in his sleepy state she couldn’t match his strength. He pulled her on top of him and snuggled into her sandy blonde hair, breathing her in.

‘How do you smell so good in the morning?’ he asked, playing with her locks as they fell around his fingers. ‘You smell like sunshine and flowers.’

Sabrina laughed. ‘Why thank you,’ she replied, kissing his nose. ‘I see your charm is never switched off, even at four-thirty in the morning.’

‘You’re the one that woke me at four-thirty in the morning to have your way with me! And I’d be a fool to say no to that.’ Levi’s cheeky tone made Sabrina laugh even more. She actually giggled as he smothered her with kisses. She loved the way he made her feel.

‘No,’ she cried through her laughter. ‘The sun was too bright, it woke me.’ She paused as Levi sat up, causing her to move with him so that she ended up sitting on his lap as he leaned his head against the head rest. ‘And I must admit, I’m nervous about today. Are you nervous?’

Levi touched the tip of her nose and traced her jaw with his thumb. ‘I wouldn’t say I’m not nervous,’ he said, with a soft shrug. Levi was the most laidback of the group. He and James were like double trouble, always the life and soul of the party, never taking anything too seriously. It was no surprise. Levi’s older brother had taken the more conventional route in life; good at school, left to get a great job, married by twenty-five, two kids. Levi’s mum had never had to worry about Chase, but Levi had certainly made up for that. Dan wasn’t exactly a troublemaker but put him and Levi in a class together and they never got any work done. Records were constantly spinning in both their brains and if they weren’t whispering to each other about guitar riffs or band names they were doodling on desks or in the back of their schoolbooks. Levi’s mum had to deal with her fair share of meetings in the principal’s office and grounding Levi whenever him and Dan snuck out of the house to see a gig. Dan had mellowed out the older he got, Levi not so much, especially when side by side with James.

When Sabrina had first met Levi’s mum, Joanne, while the boys were on tour in San Francisco for their first album, the first thing Joanne had said to her was, ‘Thank you for giving him focus sweetheart. It makes a mother’s heart happy to see her baby living his dream.’ Then she’d added with a chuckle, ‘That and I thought he’d be sleeping on my couch until he was forty.’ Sabrina had instantly warmed to Joanne and though back then her relationship with Levi was strictly professional, she’d felt a kindred spirit in Joanne. They had Skyped often over the years. Joanne liked to check in on the boys, but would always spend an extra ten minutes catching up on Sabrina’s news, asking if there was anyone special in her life yet, dropping hints about Levi being single and ‘that boy would be too daft to notice if love was right under his nose’ then telling Sabrina to keep a close watch on him. Of course, Sabrina had never told Joanne about the time she had kissed her son or how much she wanted to be with him, but she always sensed Joanne knew. Sabrina guessed it was a mum superpower.

It had been a pure delight to inform Joanne via Skype over the holidays, that they had finally taken the risk and become an item. Joanne had rolled her eyes noting, ‘It took you both long enough. What did I tell you? Right under his nose.’ Though Joanne often teased Levi for his goofy manner, Sabrina could see where he got it from. Levi’s dad hadn’t been around much when he was growing up, so while Joanne had had to step it up and look after her two boys on her own – keeping them in line and out of trouble as best she could – where Levi was concerned, there was definitely an element of fun to her. She always added a touch of lightness to any situation, having never wanted her sons to grow up in a miserable environment just because their dad wasn’t around. Sabrina had never experienced Levi feeling sorry for himself; it was rare that he mentioned his dad, but he doted on his mum. Sabrina sensed that his humorous nature was a way of keeping that sparkle in his mum’s eyes. Whenever the two of them were together you could bet there would be laughter.

As she gazed at Levi now, his face lit up by a sliver of sunrise coming through a crack in the curtain, his chestnut brown eyes flittered over her face, his jaw relaxed and a slight curve to his red lips teased a playful smile. ‘How about you take my nerves and look after them for a bit?’ Sabrina said sweetly, pulling the duvet up over her shoulders to ward off the chill.

‘Baby, nerves are for wimps. Today is going to be epic. We have the best manager there is and Dylan’s one hell of a bass player – he makes the rest of us look good. And if they want us to find a new lead, we can just replace Dan with another mysterious San Francisco hippie, and no one would know the difference,’ Levi stated, trying to keep his lips straight but his eyes were glinting with cheek. Sabrina burst out laughing and shoved him in his bicep.

‘Do you ever behave?’ she asked through her laughter. In reply he yanked the duvet up and over both of their heads and tickled her until she was screaming, tears of laughter soaking her face.

In that moment, Sabrina felt eternally grateful that they had found their way back to each other and that their book of love had been reopened ready for a rewrite. Yes, she thought, borrowing some of Levi’s confidence, today would be epic.

*

The office was spacious, clean-cut and very LA, but with a refreshing pop of colour that pleased Sabrina. Anyone that cared for bright yellows and pastel pinks was sure to be someone that Sabrina would get along with. Sabrina sat on the chair directly opposite the solid mahogany desk while Dan, Levi, Dylan and James sat behind her on the couch. Levi and James sat back against the cushions and Dan and Dylan sat on the edge, elbows on their knees, hands clasped. Dan, Sabrina could see, was ready to talk business. He would have her back if she needed him to step in. Sabrina cared greatly for Dan, and not just because he was her big sister’s boyfriend, but because they shared a similar mind for business and, ninety-nine per cent of the time, were on the same page and had been since the day San Francisco Beat had walked in to Lydia’s office over three years ago. Dan challenged her to be her best and she loved him for that.

A rustle at the door signalled the start of the meeting as a tall lady with shoulder-length black hair, red-rimmed glasses and Chanel ballet slippers bounced in. The lady was elegant and screamed retro chic and those shoes – seriously, Sabrina was having trouble tearing her eyes away.

‘Hello all, how are we doing today? My names Keira and I’m thrilled to meet with you,’ Keira said as she walked over to the couch to shake hands with each of the boys, all of whom stood up to greet her. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet with you too,’ Dan said, speaking on behalf of the band, his husky voice confident.

Sabrina stood to greet Keira when she made her way over to shake her hand. Both women paused for a moment as Sabrina got a close-up of Keira’s Chanel shoes and flashed her Chanel bag that she had splurged on last summer – much to Louisa’s delight and Amanda’s disapproval. ‘Think of how many truffles you could have bought with that,’ Amanda had said, to Sabrina’s amusement. She hadn’t wanted truffles, she had wanted the pastel pink Chanel bag with a gold clasp.

Sabrina beamed. ‘Thank you for meeting with us. We’re interested to hear the marketing strategies you would propose for a band like San Francisco Beat and we have heard nothing but wonderful things from Tyler,’ she said, as both ladies took their seats. Keira was a sharp contrast to what Sabrina had been used to in Lydia. Whereas Lydia was icy and poker-faced, Keira was warm and had a smile permanently at her lips. Her mascaraed lashes fluttered when she spoke and she spoke with such passion, that Sabrina finally felt like this could be ‘the one’; the record label she had been searching for when scouring her emails each day.

‘Your work speaks for itself. You’ve been doing a stellar job so far and we don’t wish to barge our way into an image and sound that has clearly been working for you all – that, and I can sense there would not be much use in me trying to persuade such creative and smart minds into my way of thinking.’ Sabrina noticed Keira give Dan a small smirk as she said this. ‘The way we would like to move forward is to allow you the platform to continue as you wish and give you our full support and encouragement to create an album you want to create. We want to see what it is you are all truly capable of and then, should we see room for changes once the first year is up, we can possibly renegotiate terms and market accordingly. For now, there is a rapid fan base waiting on your next move, and I have full confidence in you, Sabrina, that you know exactly what you want that next move to be.’ Keira finished with a bright smile that made Sabrina sit up straighter and feel like she could take on the world. This woman could be a motivational speaker.

‘I appreciate your confidence not only in myself but in the band too. Your offer is the best one we have received so far.’ Sabrina smiled, then turned to Dan for confirmation to make sure he was happy with what he had heard too. Dan rubbed his hand over his chiseled jaw and gave Sabrina a small nod. This day was certainly shaping up to be epic.

Keira stood. ‘That’s what I like to hear. I should expect you will want to talk over the offer in private. All I ask is that you get back to me this afternoon. You’ll understand this business moves at a rapid rate and we don’t wish to be kept in the dark. The offer will only stand for a short period,’ Keira noted as Sabrina and the boys followed suit in standing.

As they each took a step closer together to thank Keira, Levi casually placed his arm around Sabrina’s waist. Sabrina felt her palms grow sweaty instantly. She never wanted to hide or deny her relationship with Levi, especially not after the years they’d wasted due to Lydia putting the fear of god into her. She loved Levi and was proud of their relationship. However, that didn’t stop a flurry of butterflies exploding in her stomach as Keira spotted this intimate movement.

Keira opened the door and one by one the boys filed out, with nods, handshakes and sincere thanks. Before Sabrina could shake Keira’s hand and step out of the office, Keira half closed the door and gently placed a hand on Sabrina’s elbow. Sabrina turned to face her, grateful to see that her face was still rosy and friendly.

‘I have to ask. Are you and Levi an item?’ Keira queried, one hand resting on the door, the other still on Sabrina’s arm. Sabrina took in a deep breath to steady her nerves and remind herself that she could be both a professional and in love and if the record label didn’t like it, well … well, she wasn’t quite sure what she would do. All she knew for certain was that she was not giving up on Levi again.

‘We are, yes, and you have my word that it does not get in the way of our business. I do what is right by every member of the band – he receives no special treatment when it comes to work,’ Sabrina said boldly, then cringed at the last bit. That was way too much information, Keira did not need to know what special treatment she gave Levi outside of work. She bravely attempted a smile when Keira’s brows furrowed. After what felt like an eternity Keira’s features relaxed, her pink-stained lips curved upwards.

‘I will warn you – the label as a whole doesn’t think too fondly of talent and managers mixing. There’s been trouble with it in the past.’ Keira shook her head and waved her hand away as if it had all been a silly mix-up and shouldn’t have been a big deal. ‘I like you and I’d really love to work together with these guys and take them to the next level – not with fame, I can see that’s not a priority for them, but with their music and the reach it can achieve. However, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Our publicists are tough and I like to keep everyone working together on the same page and running like clockwork. There will be compromises for all parties involved. So, think about it and get back to me as soon as you can.’ Keira squeezed Sabrina’s arm and opened the door once more. Sabrina thanked her again and took a step into the corridor where Levi and Dan were waiting. James and Dylan had walked further up the corridor. Sabrina appreciated them looking out for her.

She glanced back at Keira when she heard a small chuckle. ‘I can see it,’ Keira started. ‘You make a cute couple, but be smart,’ she said with a wink before waving them off. Sabrina ignored the prickle in her throat. This was the offer that they couldn’t resist; freedom when it came to recording and writing. It was time to celebrate. Sabrina was certain that if she could handle Lydia Jones for all those years at Jones Records that she could handle whatever the publicists would throw her way here at City Heights Records.




Chapter 6 (#ulink_9ac2b5bf-598c-5592-945f-e99d099f68e6)

Torta Caprese


Ingredients:

Farina

Zucchero

Uova

Polvere di cacao

Burro

Mandorle macinate

Rum

Cioccolato

What to do:

Sciogliere il burro e il cioccolato insieme a fuoco basso.

Sbatti gli albumi in una ciotola separata. Mescolare gli ingredienti secchi insieme.

Aggiungi rum.

Infornare in forno per un’ora.

The small balcony off the kitchen was home to the most magnificent view of the Tyrrhenian sea. Louisa had the brown double doors propped open so she could feel the night’s breeze on her skin and smell the perfumed air. She couldn’t quite put her finger on the scent of Italy. Yes, there was the hint of salt from the sea, but it was more flavourful, more powerful than just that. It was mixed with the lightness of the elegant flowers that blossomed in every garden, the lingering aromas of the day’s food that swirled through kitchen windows and the ever-present smell of coffee being brewed somewhere, accompanied by the sweet scent of pastry. She breathed it in, allowing her body to relax at the smell of home. She made herself comfy in one of her zia’s wicker chairs. The navy-blue hue of the night sky was mesmerizing; a vast ocean of sparkling dots caught her attention as her eyes flickered in search of the brightest one.

‘Ciao Grandpa,’ Louisa whispered before casting her eyes over the sketch she had been working on.

She had her sketchbook propped up against her knee and the arm of the chair and a few pencils tucked away at one side of her legs. She never went far without it these days. Since being in Italy she had been drawing nonstop. Everywhere she looked she found inspiration and that passion she had lost during her stint in London, trapped in her most recent nine-to-five, had come roaring back.

The current piece she was working on had been inspired by the ceramic shops she passed daily on her way to work. For every Costa coffee that Manchester had, here in Orzoro there was a shop selling limoncello soap and ceramic pottery that drew Louisa in every time.

The extra special shops were those where no two pieces were the same, where you would often find the owners hunched over a table in the back of the tiny store painting, each brush stroke working its way purposefully over the pot. Louisa especially loved when the artist mixed the blues and yellows and greens together; something about those colours screamed Italia to her.

Her blank paper was now alive with a deep cobalt A-line pencil dress with a square neck, a yellow patterned trim around the neck, waist and hem. Louisa could picture Sabrina wearing it for an important day at her new office with the boys. The thought made her smile. She was proud of her sister for taking Dan and Levi up on their offer of continuing to represent them and helping them navigate the next part of their journey in finding a new record deal. Louisa knew Sabrina was more than capable. She was pleased too that Sabrina would no longer have to work under Lydia at Jones Records. Louisa had apologized to Sabrina for always assuming her life was that of a glamourous celebrity manager, attending flashy parties, red carpets and dining with the rich and famous; she hadn’t accounted for Sabrina missing her as much as she had missed Sabrina. Her millions of Instagram followers and her band’s international success hadn’t exactly signaled lonely to Louisa, but they had talked over Christmas and her snipes and moody remarks were water under the bridge. Louisa now understood the workload behind the social media and album sales, and she couldn’t be more in awe of Sabrina.

Louisa felt that having some space over the past month and a half in Italy had helped her understand her sisters. She had always been the one to stay home, to be there for her parents and grandparents. She had felt angry at Amanda and Sabrina for leaving the family, and her, behind. But she was realizing that finding that balance between family and pursuing your own dreams was important. Being in Italy, doing something for herself, made her feel invigorated. As though she had finally stepped out of her older sisters’ shadows and found some sunshine of her own. Though she had to admit that going after her own dreams here in Italy meant that she missed her sisters more than ever.

There was a small part of her that truly believed she could make something of herself in the fashion industry and this was one of the things that was keeping her going. Another thing was Luca.

Growing up, Louisa had been surrounded by love; her parents had been happily married for over thirty years and her nonni had been sweethearts for sixty. It was this love that had squashed any doubt about giving the Italian man she met in Alfonso’s pasticceria, before Christmas, a chance. Luca had been a kind stranger at a time when she had needed it most. Though it all happened quickly, Louisa had felt a certain pull of magic, like Luca was her own Prince Charming.

Luca had spoilt her with picnics overlooking the mountainside, candlelit lunches in the cozy confines of her office and the finest tables at Orzoro’s best-kept secrets; to which Louisa had made mental notes to take Amanda to next time she visited. In addition to their extraordinary dates, Louisa had also spent time getting to know Luca’s family more, while Luca too often visited with her nanna and zias. The qualms about it being just a holiday romance were dissolving as fast as Luca’s sfogliatelle melted in her mouth.

Louisa wished more than anything she could tell her grandpa all about Luca, his family and the pasticceria, but somehow, she thought he already knew. Taking her eyes off her new favourite design, she looked out across the peaceful night sky and smiled as the brightest star flickered as she watched.

Suddenly her phone buzzed in her pocket. She grabbed it eagerly in hopes that it was a text from Amanda or Sabrina, but Luca’s name flashed across the screen. She smiled as she read his text wishing her a buona notte but couldn’t shift the loneliness she felt from her sisters having not responded to her for the third day in a row. She slumped down in her chair, a pout playing at her lips.

‘Cara mia, cosa c’è che non va?’ Nanna’s voice came out of the shadows in the kitchen doorway. Louisa sat up right away, not wanting to give cause for Nanna to worry. She was being silly. She loved her sisters and she knew they loved her too. They were simply busy, and so was she. Life in Italy was wonderful and not just because of Luca and work, but because she got to see Nanna getting to spend time with her own sisters after eighteen years apart. Unlike Grandpa, Nanna had not been able to travel back and forth from England to her home in Italy over the years. Ailments and illnesses had kept her grounded. She had become terrified of flying because of this. But last year after Grandpa passed, she had wanted to see that he got home and had inspired the girls when she agreed to come with them for his funeral. Nanna was strong and had put on a brave face. That face bore wise wrinkles, her skin a still-glowing olive tone and her eyes glistened brighter than ever before when she pottered about her childhood home. Now she shuffled along the tiled floor in her navy slipper sandals, concern making the creases around her eyes more prominent.

‘Nothing’s wrong Nanna, I’m fine thank you,’ Louisa said softly, getting up out of her chair to hug her. That always made her feel better.

‘You miss your sisters, no?’ Nanna questioned. Nothing could ever get past a nonna, Louisa mused, better luck next time.

‘Yes, I do. I’m so excited about the fashion show Nanna, but I can’t help thinking about how fabulous the opening of Torta per Tutti is going to be. I know she can be a stubborn pain sometimes but when it comes to cooking, Amanda knows her stuff. I was looking forward to seeing it come to life, you know, just being there for her and being a guinea pig, making sure the menu was perfect. But I know she will have everyone else,’ Louisa confessed, her arms wrapped tight around her nanna who she could have sworn had shrunk a couple more inches since arriving in Italy.

‘I understand cara. I know of this problem. Life is balance. What can we do?’ Nanna said, her voice an airy whisper. She, more than anyone, knew the heartache of years away from loved ones, yet she had always remained so strong and happy with what surrounded her, her sisters always sending cards and parcels.

‘That’s it! Grazie Nanna. Grazie,’ Louisa cried after a few moments passed. She kissed her nanna on the cheek, an idea having sprung to her mind. ‘You take a seat and you teach me,’ she added, guiding Nanna to the kitchen table but grabbing a yellow cushion to make the seat more comfortable. Just then Zia Sofia walked into the kitchen waving a torn piece of paper in the air as if she had read Louisa’s mind. Zia Sofia was the youngest of her three zias and the one always bouncing around after everyone; taking the lead in the kitchen and reminding Louisa fiercefully of Amanda.

‘Aspetta, aspetta,’ she said, before reaching Louisa’s side and pinching her cheeks with her paper-free hand. ‘You need this. We make it now,’ her zia announced, turning on her heel and collecting up pots and pans. Louisa gazed at the browning paper now in her palm and blinked back tears. It was Grandpa’s handwriting and read ‘Torta caprese’.

She looked to Nanna, unable to speak. Nanna’s eyes twinkled, a spark of happiness followed by a gleam of pain. Louisa missed him every day; she couldn’t imagine how Nanna felt.

‘Family recipes, they are the treasure of the life,’ Nanna noted, as Zia Sofia carefully pulled the recipe out of Louisa’s hand, handing her bowls and spoons and shouting instructions in fast Italian. Louisa would do well to remind her that it was Amanda that was the chef of the family and not her, but she had been the one to want to learn, so she did as she was told, following the instructions as best she could, feeling content that her zia had read her mind and agreed that food was always the answer, especially when made with love.

*

Rest had not been on the cards last night, Louisa was too excitable. At 6 a.m. she crept into the kitchen, grabbed her coat from the coat rack, picked up her bag from where she’d left it next to the wicker chair, collected the brown parcel from the kitchen counter and tip-toed in her black ballet pumps out onto the balcony. The soft morning breeze cooled her warm bones.

Louisa walked in silence down the cobbled path, past the blocks of apartments whose shutters were all closed. She almost wanted to tip-toe, scared to make even the smallest of noises and disturb the tranquility of the sleeping village. The street looked like a rainbow, as each window bore a different shade of turquoise, pink and yellow. As she made her way further down the mountain, closer to the village square, lights illuminated bakeries where Louisa could see little old nonnas preparing the doughs for the day. Louisa’s thoughts drifted again to Amanda and how she would soon be doing the same thing in her café back home and it gave her an extra pep in her step. She wanted to stop and give the nonnas a hand, knowing how tiring the process was, after years of watching Amanda beat herself up over loaf after loaf, trying to perfect them and get them exactly like Grandpa’s. But she knew this was what the Italians lived for – waking up to cook with love, to feed the world. She knew the nonnas would be just fine and kept on walking.

Disturbing the silence up the street were the fisherman delivering their catch to the market stalls and restaurants. The salty fragrance of freshly caught squid reminded Louisa of her childhood summers spent fishing with her grandpa. The girls had promised they would be back to fish in the summer; Louisa hoped that with both her sisters being so busy that they would somehow still be able to stick to this promise. She would try and understand if not.

Arriving at her first destination, she snuck in to the back of the bakery and was immediately greeted by Luca’s mamma. ‘Buongiorno cara,’ she said, hugging Louisa and then holding her back at arm’s length, her hands still on Louisa’s shoulders. Louisa was accustomed to this behavior. Luca’s mamma was assessing her up and down, finally resting on Louisa’s eyes. It was the kind of evaluation she received daily from her nanna and zias, usually to check that she had eaten enough and that there was happiness behind her eyes. But before the interrogation began, Luca appeared, and Louisa’s stomach turned into a swarm of butterflies.

‘Ciao bella,’ he said, his eyebrows raised and surprise in his tone. Then he walked over to her and kissed her sweetly on each cheek.

‘Buongiorno,’ Louisa replied, merrily. She then turned to Luca’s mamma, hoping to be excused so she could go and cuddle Luca before she needed to head off.

‘Come, we have coffee,’ Luca said, reaching around Louisa’s waist and guiding her out of the kitchen.

He pulled down two chairs from a small table at the front of the café and gestured for Louisa to sit while he went around the counter and brought the coffee machine to life. Louisa contemplated the street through the gold lettering on the giant window. Only the food vendors were bustling about in their stalls and cafés, getting ready for the morning rush. The other shops remained vacant, void of light and life. Orzoro sure was beautiful at sunrise.

With a whistle and a gurgle, the robust smell of Italy’s finest espresso wafted her way, along with a tall, dark and equally robust Italian man. Louisa took him in once more, smiling when he placed her tiny coffee in front of her.

‘Everything is okay?’ Luca asked, as he sat down opposite her.

Louisa took a sip of the strong coffee and looked Luca straight in his ocean-blue eyes. These eyes had a way of drawing out her fears since the days she had first gazed into them, but today she was full of positivity and exuberant energy, her fears having melted away along with the bowl of butter and chocolate she had mixed together last night.

‘Can I get some of your cinnamon biscuits to add to my box, please?’ she said enthusiastically. For the first time since they sat down Luca took his eyes off hers and looked to the box.

‘What it is?’ Luca asked, touching the box and toying with the lid, sniffing the air as he did so. Louisa chuckled.

‘My family’s secret torta caprese, for Amanda,’ she answered, allowing him to lift the lid and peak inside. Luca’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward to get a better look, eyeing up the cake in the same fashion Louisa had witnessed Amanda doing when they had first stepped into Alfonso’s bakery last year and Luca had given them a box of cakes. It was like he was trying to figure out its secrets just by looking at it. ‘I know I can’t make it to the café opening, but I can still be part of it in some way. Amanda is probably busy and stressing about it all right now, so I think this will make her smile and remember what it’s all about,’ Louisa added, placing the lid carefully back on the box, making sure it was snug against the cake so it wouldn’t break in transit. She would get a bigger box to protect it further once she got to the post office and filled it with more goodies from Luca.

‘You can tell me the recipe, no?’ Luca asked, wiggling his eyebrows, a sweet smile turning up at the corner of his lips as he picked up Louisa’s hand and planted a kiss on her palm.

‘Not a chance,’ Louisa said playfully, though she meant it and he knew this too. Family recipes were sacred in Italy; she couldn’t go giving them away no matter how handsome Luca’s smile was or how mesmerizing his eyes were.

‘Eh, what can I do?’ he said with a laugh. Louisa jumped up, moving to his side of the table to hug him. When Luca wrapped his strong arms around her, she didn’t want to be anywhere else. He already smelt like pastries and vanilla; she wanted to stay in his embrace all day, but she had work to do. She dropped a kiss on his soft locks and stood up, checking her watch to see if the town’s only post office would be open yet.

Ten minutes later, Louisa walked out of Alfonso’s with a flush in her cheeks and a much heavier parcel. Walking towards Orzoro’s town centre, she thought about Luca and his dream of travelling that he had shared with her during a special beach date over the holidays and hoped that one day they could maybe deliver a similar parcel in person, together, to Amanda’s café. The thought made her grin as she headed to the post office. With the smell of rum and chocolate occasionally wafting up from the box, she couldn’t wait to get to work today, feeling inspired by her family and the love in her heart.




Chapter 7 (#ulink_b6289b12-5175-5cda-b356-a20e131aee64)

Garlic Bruschetta


Ingredients:

Whip up Grandpa’s bread mixture

Garlic

Parsley

Butter

Olive oil

Plum tomatoes

What to do:

Slice bread and lightly toast.

Blend butter (a fork will do to squash, the mix with spoon) with diced garlic and parsley. Add a dash of salt and pepper.

Spread butter onto bread and layer with chunky pieces of garlic and baby plum tomatoes.

Amanda was doing her best to drown out the hammering and the clatter that was coming from the kitchen by squinting really hard at her clipboard to try and absorb the words that were staring back at her. Sabrina had been the one to suggest she get a clipboard. If Amanda could focus on the words, she wouldn’t even notice the noise. It was 7.30 a.m. and Manchester was just beginning to wake, a faint orange glow appearing above the tree tops and houses across the road. Liam had fixed the electrical work a few days ago but there was a problem with the pipes that he was currently attempting to fix, being the handy man that he was. Amanda was ninety-nine per cent sure the initial plumber had made it worse than it was before he arrived. She was getting antsy not being able to cook, but thankfully Liam had proved to be a knight in shining armour with the electricals and she prayed he could save the day again.

‘Kate, how’s everything looking with the register?’ Amanda asked her recent recruit. Kate was Louisa’s age, twenty-four, polite and quiet. She had been doing a great job tailing Amanda and doing what was asked of her over the past few days. Amanda wasn’t quite sure her head would still be screwed on if it wasn’t for Kate. So far, she had organized Amanda’s scraps of paper that held shopping lists and menu ideas and replaced them with colour coordinated notebooks and pens for each such occasion. She had cleaned a small area at the back of the café and set up a table and chairs so Amanda could actually sit down and go through the business plans and have a place to conduct interviews and speak with her team. She had plugged up the register and saw to it that Amanda had Wi-Fi and a landline installed. Amanda was impressed by this woman’s efficiency. It rivalled that of Sabrina’s, yet Amanda still wished her sister were here.

‘It’s all linked up to the Wi-Fi, as is the card machine and your phone. It should be ready to go, boss,’ Kate replied, with a confidence that made Amanda look up from her ‘to-do’ list (which had been Kate’s doing too). She saw Kate smiling in her direction and couldn’t help smiling back. Kate was coming out of her shell and starting to relax in Amanda’s craziness.

‘Thank you. I appreciate that. Once the rest of the team arrive within the next hour, we’ll go through kitchen protocol and get the dining area set up, I should think,’ Amanda said, eyeing up the plastic-covered furniture and dusty floorboards. Better yet, she might make a start on it before the others arrived; she didn’t want to put them off by having them cleaning on their first day, though she had mentioned this in the interviews. With the café being brand new, she had expressed her need for staff to aid in the final preparations and seating plan. No one had pulled a face, so she had taken that as a good sign.

Suddenly a loud crash came from the kitchen causing Amanda’s clipboard to fall to the floor, her hands flying up to her chest to keep her heart in its cage. She took a few steps towards the double doors when there came a loud banging on the front door. She had the blinds down so no one could see inside, and she could not see out. With her heart still beating painfully, she waved Kate in the direction of the kitchen. Kate nodded in understanding, and Amanda made for the front door.

She peeked through the blinds and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was in fact her two new hires; that would teach her to be a pessimist she thought. Then Amanda noticed a third woman that she didn’t recognize. She was hesitant to open the door, her fingers hovering over the lock, but she couldn’t exactly leave her new staff standing in the cold – what kind of impression would that give them of their new boss? She forced a smile with pursed lips, welcoming the staff inside, but wasn’t quick enough to hold off the other woman.

Immediately the lady started snapping photos on her phone, before turning to Amanda and shoving the phone in her face. The new trainees looked at this interaction with mouths wide opens, their brows low in confusion. The boy was bouncing at his knees unsure whether he should step forward and interfere, yet ready to do so if Amanda gave him the go-ahead.

Amanda waved him off, with a fake closed-mouth smile and pointed for them to go and sit at the sole table in the dining area. Then she turned to the lady to speak, but the lady beat her to it.

‘So, this is what San Francisco Beat are retiring for? Might I ask your name? The lucky lady who snapped up one of the hottest lead singers in the world right now.’ The lady was a picture of confidence and casual, with one arm crossed over her black blazer and untucked blouse, and the other arm holding her recording device aloft. As she spoke her wrist waved from side to side, in an air of arrogance Amanda was not a fan of.

‘Excuse me, but you cannot be on this premises, we are not open yet,’ Amanda said as politely as she could, opening the door a little wider now. But the lady was eyeing up the room, her recording device still in the air. A loud grunt came from the kitchen followed by a slur of swear words and Kate shouting, ‘It’s okay!’. Amanda shook her head; she didn’t have time for this. ‘I asked you to leave, please,’ she said, slightly louder, her voice wobbling. The lady sauntered over to Amanda, ignoring the open door and concentrating on Amanda’s face. Amanda could feel the judgement in the lady’s glare.

‘Tell me, what’ve you got that all those models and actresses don’t? Me and the rest of the world deserve to know, so we can bag our own rock star. It’s only fair us ladies help each other out,’ the lady said with a wiggle of her eyebrows and an attempt at a friendly laugh that only sounded cold and creepy to Amanda’s ears.

Amanda remained silent. She wanted to shove the lady out of the door, but thought better of it, not wanting to be sued for harming a so-called ‘journalist’. ‘Go on, I know there’s a voice in there somewhere. We know Dan likes them feisty; he’s always being snapped with the troubled starlets and harlots after all.’

Amanda felt as though David Beckham had just taken a penalty and it had hit her square in the stomach knocking the wind out of her. She steadied herself with one hand holding the door frame and the other on her hip. Why was she letting this lady get to her? She knew Dan better than anyone. He had been with her six weeks ago. Life had been pretty magical since Christmas. Yes, Dan had dated his fair share of women, but this lady knew nothing and was simply stirring the pot – that didn’t stop Amanda’s lungs grasping for air though. But she would not let this show; she kept her mouth closed, her eyes still looking out of the door and into the grey Manchester morning. ‘Garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. Garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper.’ She tried to conjure up the smell in her mind to take the edge off the lady’s words.

‘Cat got your tongue, hey? Afraid you might not match up to the throng of women succumbing to that irresistible voice of his? Or are you just so sure of yourself that you’re his soul mate, that he’s not like all the other rock stars before him tempted by the high life, that you don’t feel the need to talk to people like me?’ The lady’s voice was vicious in its assault, dripping with spite and jealousy. Amanda wanted to retaliate, but she couldn’t. This lady had somehow gotten under her skin; she wasn’t sure if it was the clouds that were fuzzy or just the tears threatening to spill over. This was not like her, she didn’t get emotional like this. She needed this lady gone. Amanda knew better than anyone not to overthink the media, because it would eat away at you if you let it. She had caught a glimpse of the gossip magazines recently and knew San Francisco Beat having just signed with City Heights Records was a huge deal, but Amanda had felt better when she kept her focus on the café. Not that she wasn’t proud of the boys and Sabrina for this amazing achievement, but the music business was not her world. Dan was Dan. He was not a celebrity to her.

She turned to look at the woman and edged closer to her, not giving her any alternative other than to take a step back. A few more steps forward from Amanda, and the woman and her conceited smirk were out the door. Amanda snapped it shut as quick as she could and exhaled a shaky breath.

‘Everything okay, boss?’ Kate asked, forcing Amanda to snap out of her wayward thoughts and focus on today’s agenda; getting the café up and running, and clean.

‘I think I should be the one asking you that question,’ Amanda said, brushing a hand through the loose strands of hair that had escaped from her messy bun and shrugging off the encounter with the rude journalist. ‘So?’ She raised her eyebrows at Kate as they started walking towards the waiting staff.

‘So, it’s not looking too bad. Give him a couple more hours and Liam says we’ll be right as rain,’ Kate replied, stopping on the way to greet the others to pick up Amanda’s clipboard that she had dropped earlier.

Amanda reached the table and clapped her hands together, offering a cheery hello to make the two new hires forget about the odd conversation that had just ensued.

‘Having trouble with your boyfriend’s ex?’ the boy queried, swiveling around on his chair, casually draping his arm over the back of it. Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle at his innocence. It felt refreshing to relax back into her anonymity. It was a sharp contrast to how over-exposed she had felt just moments ago.

‘Something like that,’ she said. The boy offered her a sympathetic smile. ‘Right …’ Amanda started, before there was another loud knock at the door. Three sets of eyes bore into her as though she were running a mad house.

Amanda turned on her black trainers and rushed to the window to get a peek at who was knocking. Looking through a gap in the blinds again, she saw a tall man with a clipboard in his arm and a briefcase in the other. He didn’t scream paparazzi – he was standing rather tall for a sneaky journalist. In Amanda’s experience they hid in bushes or dressed far more unassumingly, like the demon lady from before, but this man was in a full-on suit.

‘Do you think I should answer it?’ Amanda tilted her head towards the back of the café at Kate and her other potential staff. She feared she looked like a madwoman. Why was she asking them? They had no idea of the skeletons that lurked in Amanda’s closet. Really? Amanda thought to herself. Skeletons? That’s a touch too dramatic, don’t you think? It wasn’t like she had to hide the fact that her sister was a manager to a famous rock band from potential hires, they would soon find out on opening day. So why did she feel the need to keep it from them a while longer?




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