“Hmm…” Lisa didn’t want to tell her it was desperation that had driven her to this point, so she gave her a beaming smile. And as she smiled, it felt real, like she meant it. Like she actuallydidwant to stay here. “Who knows? I may be one of those people,” she said in a tone that sounded way less loaded than it suddenly felt.
“What do you do?” Delia asked.
“I work in marketing. It’s really hard to find a job at the moment.”
“Okay. Well, I don’t know anything about marketing but I’m sure there will be plenty of jobs going around here, if you don’t mind working with small businesses, designing their websites and stuff.”
Although designing websites had nothing to do with what Lisa did for a living, she nodded and smiled anyway. “Yes, I’ll look into that. Do you work?”
Delia waved a hand and rolled her eyes as if that was a ridiculous question. “No, darling. Not really, anyway, but my husband does. He owns a construction business, and my daughter works for him; she’s a builder and also his site manager. I just paint and drink wine, mostly.”
“That sounds like a nice life,” Lisa said in an amused tone. “Is your work on display anywhere?” She pointed in the direction of the street with all the galleries.
“Yes, I share a gallery with a friend.” Delia rummaged through her handbag and handed Lisa a card. “Check out my website and stop by any time if you’re interested in seeing my work. Or just for a chat and a glass of wine. I’m there every day from four pm onwards.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Carlo came out with their coffees and Lisa’s pastry, and when he started a long conversation with Delia in Spanish, Lisa picked up her phone and looked up Diego Calvo’s number that Stella had sent her. Perhaps today, she should start her morning differently and chase opportunities instead of reading the rejection emails first thing. There was no harm in making a call to see if Mr Calvo was open to meeting with her. What was the worst thing that could happen?
39
“Hey, beautiful. Are you still working on that presentation?” Stella ran a hand through Lisa’s hair and leaned in to kiss her cheek. She’d just finished a late shift and it was almost ten pm by the time she got home to find Lisa behind her laptop on the roof terrace, surrounded by candles. She’d been working non-stop, three days in a row. “You must be a good talker since Diego Calvo agreed to meet with you.”
“I don’t know about that. I just pressured him, mostly,” Lisa joked. “Anyway, I’m almost done.” She turned to Stella with a beaming smile. “I’ve got two proposals. One teaser and the final one is close to perfect too, just in case he bites. Best to be prepared.”
“That’s my girl.” Stella kneaded her shoulders, drawing groans of pleasure from Lisa’s lips.
“I’m sure you’re tired; I’ll talk you through it tomorrow.”
“I’m okay, actually. Have you eaten?” Stella glanced at the half-empty bottle of wine on the table.
“No, I got sucked into this and totally forgot about food or anything for that matter. I did feed the cats though; Pablo kindly reminded me.” Lisa leaned back, rested her head against Stella’s stomach and looked up at her. “Have you eaten?”
“A while ago, but I’m feeling hungry again. Want me to make a pizza?” Stella laughed at Lisa’s reaction as her eyes widened.
“Would you do that? Really?”
“Of course. And I’m off tomorrow, so if you have energy left, you can show me your presentation while we eat.”
Lisa stood up and fell around Stella’s neck, surprising her with her enthusiasm. “You’re the best, you know that?” She closed her laptop and took her hand. “I’ll help you. Show me how you make those delicious masterpieces of yours. I’d like to learn so I can make them foryounext time.”
“Wow, with this reaction I’ll make you pizza every day,” Stella said as she pulled Lisa into the kitchen. She turned on the oven, opened her freezer, took out a Tupperware container with tomato sauce and put it in the microwave to defrost. Then she found a large bowl and poured in a generous amount of flour. She didn’t even need to measure the ingredients anymore; she’d done it so many times that she could probably do it blindfolded. “Flour, a sachet of yeast, a pinch of salt”—she mixed the ingredients and made a hole in the middle—“And some good quality olive oil.”
“You’re quick,” Lisa remarked.
“I am. I don’t want to make a hungry lady wait now, do I?”
Lisa shot her a flirty glance as she washed her hands. “I take it you want me to get down and dirty with that?” She glanced at the bowl.
“I do.” Stella stepped aside so Lisa could get in front of the bowl. It was sexy to watch her mix and kneed the ingredients together. “Just a little bit longer,” she said when Lisa turned to her for guidance. “Yes, that’s perfect. Now make a ball, cover it with a wet tea towel and leave it on the counter to rest while we get the ingredients together.”
“Is that all?” Lisa asked with a puzzled look.
“There’s not much else to it, apart from my secret tomato sauce,” Stella said, pulling the container out of the microwave. “I batch cook it and freeze it so I’m never out.”
“Sounds intriguing. Why is it secret?”
“It’s my grandmother’s recipe for albondigas. Spanish meatballs in tomato sauce. Except I tend to put it on pizzas instead.”
