If I wear a thickened layer of foundation, will it help to dispel some of the redness every time my face burns? Or will it make it worse? At least if Lorenzo is happy and smiling, the embarrassment is worth it. After all, laughter is the world’s best medicine.
* * *
After extracting the wayward piece of coral and disinfecting her scrapes, they entered Giulia’s kitchen, the largest room on the ground floor of Castillo Roccia. Sabrina’s eyes went directly to the massive ten-foot kitchen island with a swirly white quartz countertop.
Bold red apples, rich orange peppers, and sunny yellow lemons sat inside a fruit basket as color accents. Green herbs hung drying from hooks above the second sink. Arched windows and a skylight let in plenty of natural light. From the kitchen, Sabrina looked at the harbor.
My room must be right above. The view looks just like this one.
As her eyes surveyed the remainder of the room, she saw walnut-colored cabinets, an industrial-sized stainless-steel refrigerator, and floating shelves featuring cookbooks and pots of freshly sprouted plants. Yet the pièce de résistance was the archway of golden-sand-colored bricks that framed a stainless-steel range and double oven.
If I were to have a kitchen custom built for me, I’d like it to be just like this. Giulia has figured out how to incorporate the perfect blend of old and modern. My problem would be the plants. I love how they look, but I never ever seem to have luck keeping them alive with my black thumb. Everything in my kitchen would be fake.
“Sabrina. Perfecto. Here is an apron for you. Have a seat on the bar stool. There are four others joining us this evening.” Giulia provided her with a white apron with blue-and-gold embroidered shells around the edges.
Sabrina slipped the garment over her head and secured the ties into a bow. “This kitchen is just as lovely as the rest of the Castillo.”
“Grazie!” Giulia shifted her attention to Lorenzo. She greeted him with an air kiss on the cheek. “Lorenzo, if you could pick out some basil and begin rinsing some of the tomatoes.”
He made his way over to the cabinet below the sink and removed a purple apron with gold embroidery.
“That looks just like the tablecloth from the market.” Sabrina slid out one of the bar stools from the center island and climbed up onto it.
Giulia let out a bark of laughter.
“That’s because in its past life, it was,” he answered slowly.
“When he was younger, Lorenzo was hopeless at keeping his clothing clean.” Giulia opened the top drawer from the opposite side of the island and pulled out sets of cutting boards, matching stainless-steel knife sets, and rolling pins. “About ten years ago, his mama finally grew so fed up with Lorenzo’s carelessness and mud stains that she threatened him with the loss of his beloved Nintendo DS.”
The lines on his forehead creased. “When I was thirteen, playing Pokémon was the most important thing in the world to me. I couldn’t let Mama have an excuse to take it away from me. So I enlisted Tonia from the market to make me this emergency apron. It’s lived here ever since.”
“I guess you ‘gotta catch ’em all.’” Sabrina leaned her elbows onto the counter.
He stood with his hands on his hips and rattled off a slew of questions. “You played? Who was your top Pokémon? What version of the game was your favorite? The original blue and red versions? Or the newer sun and moon versions?”
She shook her head. “My sister was the gamer in the family. The only character I know is Pikachu. She had a black-and-white one? And maybe a yellow one? I can’t remember.”
Lorenzo sighed. “You definitely missed out. Yellow was the best version. It took me years to track down a copy and one of the old-school Game Boys so I could play it. Just like the anime, players could select Pikachu as their starter Pokémon.”
“I never understood why they added so many more. Weren’t the original one hundred enough?” She laughed.
At least I know who Pikachu is. Mental note to self to ask Maggie for a Pokémon synopsis.
“There were one hundred and fifty in the first generation. My favorite were the fire types. Charmander—”
Giulia clapped her hands together. Both of their heads turned in the direction of the curly-haired bed and breakfast owner. “As much as I enjoy hearing you two speak about those little monsters, my kitchen needs prepping. Less chatter and more setup.”
Sabrina straightened her apron. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You could place these flour bags, eggs, and parchment paper at each station.”
Sabrina stood, washed her hands at the sink, then began distributing supplies.
Time flew by. Within forty-five minutes, the other members of the cooking class, two Canadian couples, arrived. Giulia wasted no time in assigning stations and putting everyone to work mixing, kneading, and rolling out the pasta dough.
In the hour they let the dough sit to the side to proof, Lorenzo demonstrated his skills as a wine connoisseur by explaining all about how reds, whites, and dessert wines could be paired with different Italian dishes.
His lips are so rosy red, just like the pinot noir, full and luscious. It’s been so long since I’ve had a kiss from a man. Lorenzo has to be better than my exes combined. As teens, we didn’t know what we were doing. In college, Tim wasn’t all that bad, but he always reminded me of a fish with the way he’d pucker his lips.
