A Chocolate-Box New Years by Josie Riviera

Author:Josie Riviera [Riviera, Josie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Lorenzo walked into Julie’s restaurant at precisely one o’clock.

Elated anticipation had grown inside him all morning. The cassata excuse, which he’d originally intended as a means to get to know her better, was the highlight of his day. He’d spent his waking hours remembering each of their moments together and speculated on when he could introduce Julie to his family.

Certainly there was no better opportunity than New Year’s Day, when everyone was present and he could introduce her as his …?

His what? Date? Girlfriend? Perhaps more.

Perhaps less. They’d only just met, and relationships took stages to mature as people learned more about each other.

Nevertheless, with inborn optimism, he smiled. The promise of a delightful afternoon with Julie beckoned.

After he knocked on The Pasta Junction’s green wooden door, she’d called out to him to come inside. “The door’s unlocked,” she added.

“I bought the ingredients at the corner grocer’s.” He strode into the dining room and they acknowledged each other with cheerful greetings.

He followed her into the kitchen.

He set down the brown grocery bag, removed his beat-up leather jacket, damp from the rain, and draped it over a stool.

With a sigh, she busied herself with tidying cutlery.

“Anything the matter?” he asked with a smile. He hoped the smile hid his concern. She looked pale and tired. Although her resilience amazed him, her work responsibility was a challenging burden to carry on her own.

“A headache is coming on, and I realize it’s stress because of the holiday season.” She rubbed her temples, then her tight shoulders. “I’m grateful for my patrons, but also hoping my life calms down after the first of the year.”

“Will it? Calm down?”

Uncertainly, she gazed at him. “Maybe.”

“Some of those choices are up to you.” He reached into the grocery bag and placed the cake mix, ricotta cheese, chocolate chips, and maraschino cherries on the counter. “I presume this is the correct boxed mix. It looks the same as the one I remember from my grandmother’s house.”

She quirked a delicate eyebrow. “How long is it since you baked a cassata?”

“Well, I’m thirty-two, and spent many afternoons with her throughout my childhood.” He perused the label on the box. “Thus, over twenty years ago.”

“It’s highly doubtful the packaging stayed the same.” Julie grinned, went to the cooler and brought back two bottles of water. He stepped aside as she poured the water into glasses.

He’d phoned her from the store to ask what type of ricotta he should purchase—low fat, fat free, or regular—and she’d instructed that regular ricotta was fine, and then remarked that the restaurant’s coffee machine had broken down. She expected it would be repaired before the dinner crowd arrived and was concerned the fix might be costly. Still, she’d explained, a repair was better than purchasing a brand new machine.

As she started pulling out bowls and a wooden spoon, he couldn’t stop admiring her. Her tight black denims, topped with a red holiday sweater, enhanced her slim curves. He gave her an appreciative appraisal from the

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