Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“And I’m not the only one,” I argued. “There is a market for spice, Papa. You’re just too stuck in your ways to try it. I’m going to do this.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt. When people reject you, it is brutal. Do you think I like making the same pepperoni pizza all day? Do you? I had dreams of serving my food. Agnello cac’ e ove in the spring, tripe dumplings, shrimp pilau, all the things that are delicious and adventurous and speak of my parents’ home. Our home!
“But we make pizza, dear. We make pizza and lasagna and spaghetti Bolognese. Because that is what the people want, and they love it. And they love us for it. And I love making people happy, Sofia. So I make them their lasagna, and I make it like Americans make it because that’s what they want. You will learn this, the secret of cooking is to make what the stomach wants, not what the mind wants. You are a cook. You will cook what you are told.”
“You’ve always held me back, Papa,” I said. “You’re too afraid to try something new. People love us here. They won’t stop coming because a new item is on the menu. Because one time they got something a little too hot for them. Something another person loved so much they will come back again and again to order it. I promise you! You are overprotective, Papa. I love to cook. I want to cook. But I can’t always cook the same things.”
Papa let out a sound that was somewhere between a groan and a shout and then muttered something I didn’t quite catch in Italian.
“You have always had problems with judgment, Sofia,” he muttered. “Like with that boy you were with. You thought he was the greatest thing, but no, he strung you along like a little puppy while he had other women to satisfy him.”
A tightness gripped my throat that felt like a vise, and Papa froze where he was. I could see him, wide-eyed, wishing to take those words back. But it was too late. He said them. And I heard them. At least I knew how much he pitied me now.
“Sofia, I—” he began.
“I need to get to work.”
With that, I brushed out of the office, shutting the door behind me, and into the kitchen, where I kept my back to the door, even when he came out and stood there. I could feel his presence as he waited for me to turn around and face him, but I never did. Eventually, the door that led upstairs from the kitchen opened and shut, and when I turned around, he was gone.
Service was a bit busier than usual, but I was absolutely not going to call for help. I was going to have to deal with it on my own. Just me, a server named Jessica, Amara when she could be bothered to pay attention, and Leo, who came in at one and went immediately to the bar to tend it until Sam got there at three.
I was looking forward to Sam getting there. She was a good bartender and a half-decent friend. She seemed not to want to get too close to me, probably because of the awkwardness of my father being her boss, but we could chat and make the time pass easier together. Better than hanging out with Leo, at least.
“Sofia,” a voice said from the door leading to the bar.
“Speak of the devil,” I muttered to myself.
“What?”
“Nothing, Leo. What do you need?”
“Can you cover the bar for like five minutes? I need to run up to the gas station for a minute.”
I sighed. The kitchen was caught up, and no new tables had been seated for a couple of minutes, so I did have the time.
“Fine,” I said. “Just hurry.”
“Thanks. Oh, and I need some mozzarella sticks for the girl at the end of the bar.”
“Leo!” I shouted as he chuckled and ran out of the door, flinging his apron onto the hook as he did so.
Angrily tossing some sticks into the deep fryer, I wiped my hands on the apron and then took it off, switching to a new one more presentable for the bar. I was tying it around my stomach as I walked through the door and slid behind the bar.
I had barely tied the knot in the apron and acknowledged the girl at the end of the bar, who was raising her finger in the air as an indication that her Long Island iced tea was too close to being empty, when the door opened, and I froze.
Kieran was walking into the bar.
For a moment, all the anger seeped out of me. Like all the energy in my body vanished and was replaced by a warming sensation that started in my chest and rose up my neck until my cheeks burned and my temples tingled.