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After I hung up, I got thinking.Why was I so damn tough on myself?And what would I do if I didn’t have Mum’s constantsupport?The thought of ever losing her made my heart stop. Life was so fragile, so damn fragile. Dad had taught me that. And I knew I deserved happiness – if others did, why didn’t I? I thought of all those affirmations I’d seen people post online, and figured, what the hell? Worth a shot, right? I took a deep breath and moved to the mirror, where I stood, facing myself, and spoke the words, ‘You are worth it. You deserve this job, and you won’t let anyone make you feel otherwise. You’ve absolutely got this, you goddamn pizza queen.’
19
The Breakup
My mind wandered back to yesterday’s shift. It was knock-off time, and Patrick stood in the doorway watching with a facial expression I couldn’t read as I cleaned down my section. He was dressed in a tailored white shirt and black pants, with a silver vest, duck-egg-blue tie and black tasselled loafers. His warm, spicy, leathery scent drifted off his skin and smelt as strong as it did in the morning. After I finished wiping the bench, I turned to him with a curious smile.
‘Did you need to speak to me?’ I asked as I caught sight of his alluring green eyes.
He folded his arms, and I glanced at his rings as they glinted in the fluorescent lights above.
‘You’re a remarkable lady, Naomi. I must say, you’ve caught onto every recipe quicker than any previous pizza chef.’ He eyed me curiously.
‘Thank you.’ I gave him a proud smile and watched as he walked closer to me.Oh no, don’t come too close.Too late. He stood only inches away and leant one hand on the stainless-steelbenchtop for support. My cheeks and neck began to burn, and I tried my best to swallow away the feeling.
‘You’ve impressed me more than most qualified pizza chefs. It seems that talent plays a bigger part than qualifications.’
‘I guess so. I’ve cooked since I was a kid.’ I shrugged. ‘Actually, I’ve noticed our dough recipes are quite similar, and maybe that’s why I’ve got the knack for your pizzas so quickly.’ I eyed him and watched his facial expression transition into a look of intrigue and a huge grin.
‘Is that so? Do share.’ He raised his brows, eager for me to elaborate, and gestured a hand towards me.
‘Well, my dad’s recipe is quite simple. It’s just all-purpose flour, salt, olive oil, water, and dried yeast. I think pizza dough is simple, really, and ratios are the biggest mistake people make.’ I thought of Kelly’s text about Tyren’s stuff-up and wondered if he concocted his own ratios.
He nodded.
‘Anyway, the only difference between our dough is you use triple-zero flour and fresh yeast. It’s fascinating how potent dry yeast is in comparison to fresh – you don’t need much dried.’ My eyes were alight with passion with every word I spoke.
‘See, and this is why you impress me, Naomi. You understand ratios and dough as if you invented them. It’s an honour to have you work in this kitchen.’ He crossed one leg over the other as he leaned against the bench and gave me the face that you give someone you’re very proud of. It warmed my heart instantly.
I was already blushing like a mad woman from how close he was standing but felt my cheeks burn even more after he said those words.
‘Well, over the years, I’ve learnt not to take shortcuts when it comes to cooking. Slow and steady well and truly wins the race when it comes to flavours and texture. Every time I see someone use warm water instead of cold in their dough to quicken theprocess, I have a mild anxiety attack because it’s like witnessing a murder. If you be patient and wait for a slow rise, the crust becomes airy, crispier, and more delicious.’
‘Si.’He nodded his approval once more.
I let out a laugh, and we continued talking about pizza until it was time to close the restaurant.
***
I can’t believe it’s the twenty-second of October already,I thought as I stared at my sunset-picture wall calendar. It had been almost three weeks since I first stepped foot in Casa di Vitello’s kitchen, and since then, the pizza section had become as familiar to me as Mon Amour’s. I knew Patrick’s kitchen well and the pizzas even better, and I felt as though I’d cooked in the oven forever. Looking at the calendar with its sunsets from all over the world was my way of visiting places without physically going, since I’d never been overseas.
***
Seb arrived on the eighteenth for a two-week break and would be attending Deb’s birthday party whatever she decided to do. We still hadn’t caught up because I’d been busy with work and he’d been on a pokies spree, pub-hopping with Billy. They both spent big. Sometimes they’d punt five-hundred-plus dollars a day; they only deemed a win worthy if it was over the one-thousand-dollar mark. Billy had rich parents, so the Uber driving money was just extra pocket money on top of his weekly allowance. So, the miner and the Uber boy lived it up every chance they got. Their motto:‘Punt up ’til I die.’I’d rolled my eyes more than once at that one.
Speak of the devil,I thought as my phone vibrated against my nightstand.
Seb:How’s my baby going? I’m super horny. Hehe. Are you keen for a tumble in the sheets? ; )
Me:I was just about to go shopping and find Deb a birthday present, and no, it’s that time of the month.
Seb:So? It’s just a bit of blood. I’ve done it before and don’t care.
Here we go … Bringing up past things he’s done with other women, like that means it should be the same with me. I shook my head and pressed my hand to my face.Why is it so hard for him to treat me as an individual? Some women are into that, and that’s perfectly fine, but I’m not.
Seb:Babe????
Me:I’m not into that.
