The doorbell jangled. Gino walked into the shop. Stella’s heart leapt. Would she ever get over the thrill of seeing him again?
‘Buongiorno! May I help you,signore?’
‘Very professional. I like it.’ He leant across the counter and pressed his lips on hers. She closed her eyes, hoping that no one else would come through the door.
‘Mmm… How I’d like to carry you down the steps and ravish you in the basement.’
‘Stop it!’ She laughed. ‘What are you here for? More plumbing parts? Don’t tell me Leo’s shower still isn’t working?’
‘Why, do I smell?’ He frowned.
She inhaled deeply. ‘Only of shampoo and good things but maybe you washed in the sink.’ Her face flushed at the thought of him stripped to the waist, covered in a soapy lather.Honestly, Stella, you’re sixty in a few days. Pull yourself together!
‘Hmm. I’m pleased to say the plumbing’s all fine, as is the lighting, the cooker and everything else. It’s all ready for the feast I’m preparing for our very special visitor this evening.’
‘Aagh!’ She cringed. ‘I meant to call you about tonight but I’ve been so caught up chatting to Domenico.’
‘He must be a lot better then? That’s marvellous news. You never know, when someone has a fall at that age.’
‘He’s back home,’ Stella said.
‘Oh! Do you need somewhere to stay? Please don’t tell me you’re leaving.’
‘I’m not going anywhere for now. Luisa has asked me to keep an eye on him. She wants me to make sure he doesn’t try to get back behind the counter until he’s good and ready.’
‘So, he’s barred from his own shop. That’s a bit harsh.’
Stella shrugged. ‘I feel bad but it won’t be for long. But Gino, tonight’s going to be a problem. Domenico needs me in the shop during the day but in the evening I don’t want to leave him sitting alone at home.’
‘Then bring him along. Cooking for four instead of three won’t make a difference.’
‘Do you think he’ll come?’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Gino said. ‘I’m sure we’re not his favourite people but he wasn’t one of the folk who objected when Leo got his commission for the memorial.’
‘I’ll ask him.’ Stella gave Gino a nod and turned to serve a woman who’d plonked a colander and kitchen timer shaped like a tomato onto the counter.
Gino waited until the customer was back out on the street. ‘I can’t wait to see you tonight, even though I’ll have to share you.’
‘What are you cooking?’
He smacked his hand against his forehead. ‘Honestly, I would have forgotten what I came in for if you hadn’t asked that. I’m not telling you, it’s a surprise.’
‘You mean you haven’t decided.’
He put on a mock hurt expression. ‘How can you say that? I’ve been up all night planning! But I’m not going to do a good job if I don’t have a grater – one of those metal planes that you use on a block of parmigiano. My son’s brilliant with his hands but that doesn’t extend to his cooking skills, judging by the state of his kitchen. There’s a serious lack of decent utensils.’
‘Third aisle, second shelf.’ She knew where just about everything was now. Except for that elusive kettle.
He laid the grater on the counter; she ran the purchase through the till, adding the item to her uncle’s ledger.
‘Maybe Domenico and I should bring one of those olivewood chopping boards with us tonight instead of a bottle of wine.’
‘That’s a great idea. My son’s wine rack is a lot better stocked than the rest of his kitchen.’ Gino laughed. ‘Look, why don’t you come over to mine for a bit once you’ve had lunch with Domenico and let me know what he says about tonight.’
She crossed her fingers under the counter. Their families’ feud had gone on far too long.
* * *
