I must look confused because she carries on. ‘You know, joining forces? You mentioned it in passing a while back when we were talking about Nat’s awful boss. You were right, flowers and events do go hand in hand so we’ve been staying up late, brainstorming ways to combine our talents and turn them into a business opportunity.’
‘Alice that’s awesome.’
‘I’m really psyched about it,’ she nods happily. ‘It would be a side hustle for both of us at first which would mean even longer working hours, but I really believe that we could make a go of it. And it feels like everything else is in place. Eve is brilliant at the shop already so I’d have no concerns about her potentially taking over one day. Meanwhile Nat is so ready to tell Sid and Bruno where to stick it.’
‘I can picture her doing that,’ I laugh and Alice joins in.
‘Zach?’
‘Mmm?’
‘What’s for dinner?’
‘Never not thinking about your stomach,’ I smile, hopeful that tonight might get us back on track. ‘Fancy making pizzas together?’
The look of concentration on Alice’s face is adorable. She pats her floury hands on the apron she’s borrowed from my coffee shop days and suddenly stops in her tracks, shaking her head.
‘No Zach. NO. This is not okay.’
Shit.
‘What is it?’ I pause, looking at her in concern.
‘You’re putting pineapple on your pizza, man. You’re Italian! The whole of Italy is weeping right now.’
Relief floods through me as I laugh. ‘Pizza is a safe space, Alice. Somewhere we can express our personalitieswithout judgement.’
‘There are so many ways to express yourself when it comes to pizza,’ she nods thoughtfully. ‘Pepperoni or salami, mozzarella or burrata, mushroom or pepper. But pineapple? That’s just plain wrong. I can’t believe I didn’t know you were a dirty pineapple pizza lover. What’s next … ham?’ She wrinkles her nose.
I nod towards the packet of ham hiding behind an empty box of pizza dough.
‘Oh my.’ She holds her hands up in horror and I love how quickly we’ve got our rapport back. After the mini-break I thought that was it but I understand that Alice has never been big into dating before. I guess she’s bound to have wobbles along the way and all I can do is be here to ride them out with her.
‘Surely you’re not going to dump me because of my pizza preferences? That would be very short-sighted of you. Besides, people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.’ I look pointedly towards her own pizza. She’s making a smiley face using two slices of salami as eyes, halved olives as the pupils and a mouth made out of sliced peppers. She’s currently adding hair and eyebrows with grated mozzarella.
Alice follows my gaze and bites her lip.
‘I’m going to call her Penelope,’ she announces.
‘I think my five-year-old nieces could make something more professional.’
‘Pipe down,’ she retorts. ‘Penelope could do with some contouring. Could you pass me the passata, please?’
We muck about contentedly, putting our pizzas in the oven and drinking our wine and just being. It feels good.
Later, we’re settled on the sofa grabbing slices of pizza when Alice gives me a devilish look.
‘You must never speak of this,’ she declares as she takes a bite of mine.
Quick as a flash, I grab my phone and snap her mid-bite.
‘Oh no you didn’t?’
‘Just a little evidence of the fact that you’re currently eating my pineapple and ham taste sensation and enjoying it.’
‘It’s really good,’ she whispers.
‘I see. Perhaps I’m owed an apology then?’
