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Ida had briefed me extensively on pizza technique. The key was to make sure the stone at the bottom of the portable oven hit eight hundred degrees. Armed with a laser thermometer, I monitored the stone. Then, when the time was right, I loaded the pizza onto a peel, which was basically a huge spatula.
"You look like a pro," said Elara.
"I'd reserve judgment until the pizza's cooked and eaten."
Getting the pizza into the oven wasn't as difficult as I’d worried. I shoved the peel into the oven, and the pizza slid right off. Within seconds, the aroma of melting cheese and crisp crust filled the air.
"Okay, my mouth is watering,” Elara cooed. It was a relief to see her enjoying this a bit more now. Made me feel like slightly less of an asshole.
"I don't think you'll have long to wait."
I turned the pizza a couple of times with the peel, and two minutes later, I slid it back out.
"It looks phenomenal! What the hell, Cole? You missed your calling in life."
"I coulda been a contender," I said, aping Brando's voice. "The greatest pizza chef of all time."
I cut the pizza, enjoying the crunch of the cutter as it sliced through the crust.
As I passed Elara the first slice, I finally broached the topic I'd been avoiding. "So, you haven't said much about the interview. How did it go?"
Elara sighed, taking a sip of her wine before launching into her story. "I’m sorry I haven’t told you much about it yet. The thing is, it was . . . nerve-wracking." She fidgeted with the stem of her wine glass. "The judges were so serious."
“They liked you, though.” I took the first bite of pizza and the roof of my mouth immediately protested the heat. "It's hotter than the sun!" I yelped, to sudden laughter from Elara.
"You have to wait for pizza," she said, blowing on her slice with those perfect pink lips.
Once the burning sensation had calmed down a little, the flavor of the pizza started to come through. The crust was crisp, the cheese was gooey, and the sauce had just the right amount of tang. I was impressed with myself.
“You’re smiling,” she said. “That’s a good sign. Let me try some.”
I watched her lift the pizza slowly to her lips and blow. “Now I know how you felt at your interview. Don’t be too harsh on me, judge.”
She took a delicate bite off the end of her pizza slice then her eyes widened. “Okay. That is so fricking good.”
I exhaled a sigh of relief. "See, you don't need to go all the way to New York for good pizza."
"It's such a sweet surprise."
"Speaking of which," I began, setting my slice down and wiping my hands on a napkin. "I have another one for you."
She paused, pizza midway to her mouth. "Oh? What is it?"
"The renovations on the bar are finished," I announced.
“What?!”
I grinned. "My dad got the all-clear from the doctor, and he called in a favor to get another guy to help for the past three days. The antique bar has been taken to his warehouse, and everything else has been fully renovated—even the windows are clean."
"Oh my goodness" she breathed, her eyes shining with excitement. "I thought it was going to be weeks! That's amazing, Cole! I can't believe it. I want to go see it now!"
"Let's save that for tomorrow," I suggested, playfully arching an eyebrow. "Tonight is all about you and New York."
"Fine," she said with a pretend pout. "So, what made you decide to finish it so quickly?"
"Actually, my dad picked up a new client over at Goldharbor Bay. It's a full renovation job. I start tomorrow. Pay’s good, and it's conveniently close to Stephanie's place."
