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‘Deb?’ I took another left turn and as we passed the restaurants on the block. I winced as I caught sight of last night’s restaurant and dismissed the thought of the toilet paper incident.
‘Yeah?’
‘Did you hear me?’
‘Oh, sort of.’ She laughed. ‘Yeah, Daniel can be a bit silly sometimes.’
Really? That is her response? A bit silly? What happened to her not being able to stand him? Odd.
‘So, are you excited for the function tomorrow?’ I asked, hoping for a proper response.
‘Yes, it’s going to be massive. I can’t believe we’re catering Patrick Vitello’s house.’
‘Where’s his house again?’
‘Noosa Sound. His backyard is actually theriver.’ Her tone was packed with excitement.
‘Lucky man. What does he do again?’ I asked as I concentrated on the road ahead.
Deb scoffed. ‘Oh my God, how do you not know this? He owns three of the top restaurants in Australia. We tried his food a few months ago. Don’t you remember? You know, the one in Hastings Street?’
‘That insanely gorgeous Italian food? The place we had to book two weeks in advance. That’s his?’ I raised my brows and felt a surge of anxiety zoom its way into my heart.
‘Yep! It’s so fancy – heaps of celebrities and socialites go there.’
‘Was he even in the restaurant that night? All I remember are those exotic-looking waitresses.’ I quickly glanced at her, but not long enough to catch her facial expression.
‘Yeah, he was there. He was on the phone a lot. He is seriously so hot.’ Deb’s voice went sensual as she lusted over him.
When we got home, I made my crispy salmon specialty with lemon, pepper, and butter sauce, and we ate at the dinner table until nothing was left on our plates. Deb went as far as licking her plate clean.
After the dishes were done by me, we slumped on the couch in our pyjamas while Deb googled photos of Patrick on her iPad. She scrolled her finger down the photo-covered screen. Most of the photos were of his mouth-watering food and the interiorof his restaurants, but there was the occasional headshot as well. He was enthralling, with deep-olive skin and a model-like sculptured face, complemented by ridiculously green eyes. I was a sucker for green eyes; I once read that green was the rarest eye colour in the world, andoh God,his were as fine as apple pie.
Deb’s eyes were glued to the screen as she stared at Patrick’s face. She took a sip of pinot grigio from her glass while I gulped down water from my bottle. The fan above us was going full bore.
‘That man’s jaw structure would make any car crash,’ Deb said as she perved at his face.
I burst out in laughter.
Why was Mon Amour, a small Moroccan-inspired restaurant,cooking for someone so renowned? I was in awe but also incredibly nervous.What if he didn’t like my pizzas?I’d only tasted his food once, but the pictures and reviews suggested mine might not measure up.Why would he want our food when his was phenomenal? Perhaps he sought variety?
4
The Function
The sound of pounding on my bedroom door and the twisting of my doorknob awoke me from my deep sleep. I grabbed my phone and gasped: 10:58am.Noooo!
‘Naomi, are you seriously still sleeping?’ Deb called through the door.
My stomach sank, and I lay glued to the bed, my mouth dry as paper.
‘Deb, I am so stupid. I forgot to set my alarm.’ I pressed my hand to my forehead and sighed.
‘Let me in.’ My doorknob twisted again.
The blood in my head rushed and the room swayed as I stood up too fast. My heart pounded, and all I could think was,Seriously, Naomi, you’re going to be late for such an important work function? Come on, girl. Get your shit together.
Just as I was about to open the door, my phone buzzed and‘Daniel (Boss)’flashed on the screen. My fingers worked faster than my brain, and before I knew it, Daniel was yelling on the phone.
