Sabrina’s mind transported her to an open field of tall grass. Dressed in a white, open V-necked Regency gentleman’s shirt tucked into a pair of breeches, Lorenzo would dramatically sweep her into his arms and say, “Miss Hill, you have no idea how I have longed to show you the full depth of my feelings for you.”
A bonnet would fly off her head as their bodies pressed against one another. As she arched her head back, he would lower his lips to hers. They would be soft and warm. As the sun appeared on the edge of the horizon, a thousand orange-and-black monarch butterflies would rise up from the grass. Together, they’d watch the magical scene unfold, wrapped in one another’s embrace.
The applauding of the other occupants in the room brought Sabrina out of her head. She clapped her hands together with gusto, earning her a few curious stares.
“It is time for us to take up the dough and begin slicing it. Watch how I use the pasta machine. You’ll all take turns using it as we go. Once we’ve made the pasta sheets, you will be able to set to work on the meat.” Giulia took up her bowl of dough.
Lorenzo placed his supplies to the side and strolled over to Sabrina’s station. “This next step works best if there are two people. We have a slew of slicing and dicing herbs, veggies, and meat coming up.”
Focus, Sabrina. Now is not the time to be distracted. You are in a kitchen surrounded by knives, a food machine, and a stove.
Sabrina bit the inside of her cheek. She quickly reached for her dough and positioned the bowl in front of her. “I’m confused. Why are we making four sets of lasagna?” She gestured to the pan. “Won’t one pan be enough food to serve about four people? There aren’t that many of us here.”
Lorenzo leaned against the kitchen island. “A hugely important part of this class is theexperienceof making the pasta from scratch. I can assure you that the food never goes to waste. Most participants will opt to have their completed dishes packed up to take away with them. Any food that is left over is distributed to some of the neighboring hotels, or it comes home with me.”
Sabrina patted her forehead with her forearm. “With all of the work and preparation that we’re putting into this, I wouldn’t dare give my lasagna away. I want to enjoy the fruits of my labor.”
“Here, here.” Lorenzo trimmed off a small cross section of dough and began to roll it out. “Have you made any plans for tomorrow as of yet?”
“Tomorrow? I’ll have to see what my friend Nora has in mind. We’re departing on the afternoon train to Florence.”
He dropped his rolling pin. “You are leaving the Cinque Terre? What happened to enjoying each experience? You haven’t been here more than three days.” Lorenzo frowned.
“The Cinque Terre was always going to be a short stopover, but I’ve enjoyed my time here. As much as I would love to stay here longer?.?.?.” Sabrina placed her flattened dough on the tray and looked to Lorenzo. Her breathing increased and her pulse sped up. “I came to Italy primarily to establish myself in Florence.”
“Toscana.” Lorenzo frowned. “Uno momento.” He picked up the dough they’d finished flattening and carried it over to the pasta machine by Giulia.
What made Lorenzo suddenly so tense? Reading men has never been a forte of mine. But with Lorenzo, it’s especially difficult. I thought I had a handle on his body language, but I don’t. One moment it’s awkward between us, and the next we’re speaking as if we’ve been friends a long time. I knew the hug would make it worse between us.
She watched as the dough elongated and began to appear more recognizably like a lasagna noodle. When Lorenzo returned, Giulia passed around copper pans to everyone.
“It’s time to begin working on the interior of our lasagna,” she said. “Go ahead and finely dice the—”
Lorenzo leaned over and whispered in Sabrina’s ear, “What if I asked you if I could meet you when you are staying in Florence?”
She shivered. The wings of a dozen butterflies fluttered inside of her stomach. She turned her head and locked on to his gaze. His eyes were pools of liquid amber with toffee-colored flecks. “That depends?.?.?.”
“Mio amico, in the past times we’ve met, I’ve had more enjoyment in your company than I’ve experienced in a long while.” Lorenzo breathed deeply.
He enjoys my company!
Sabrina gripped the edge of the counter tightly. “I’m flattered my Austen obsession hasn’t managed to skew your impression of me.”
“In the short time we’ve spent together, I find myself counting down the hours and minutes until I can see you again. You’re one of the most interesting people I have ever met.” He blinked several times. “I’d be a fool, if I let you disappear from my life.”
Sabrina lowered her head.
Is Lorenzo asking if he can take me out on a date? Me? The clumsy, boring former assistant from Texas?
“It’s all over your face and in your body language.” His shoulders hunched. “Forget I ever mentioned the proposition to you. I just assumed—”
Sabrina’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes,” she exclaimed quickly. “You can visit me in Florence.” She rubbed her shoulder. “I’m having one of those ‘I can’t believe this is real life’ kind of moments.” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s been such a very long time since anyone has been remotely interested in me. I mean, the last guy I dated was put off by all the antiques and knickknacks in my apartment.”
Out of all the things to slip out of my mouth?.?.?. why did I just say that? Ugh! Can I step back in time ten seconds?
Lorenzo tapped his chest. “I would be the last person to judge someone just because they may have a so-called unique interest.”
Before Sabrina could ask him anything further, Giulia’s voice cut in. “Lorenzo. Sabrina. You two can stare at one another with goo-goo eyes later. Now is the time for cooking.”
