Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100605 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Cooking isn’t just healthy for the body. It is good for the mind. It forces you to slow down. Chop. Stir. Have patience.”
“Which is why I haven’t done it. Slow wasn’t penciled in on my very full agenda for each day.”
“You said you quit your job because you didn’t get made partner, yes? What was so important about becoming one? Was it the money?”
Sadly, I didn’t have a clear answer as to why I’d been doing something that had taken over my entire life for six years. “The money would be better, yes, but it wasn’t really about that. My bonus was tied to my billable hours, which were always super high, so I had more money than I did time to spend it.”
“What drove you, then?”
“I’m not really sure. I guess I wanted to reach the top level. I was never very good at being mediocre at things. I stopped playing video games as a kid because once I started, I became obsessed with conquering it—getting to the last level or whatever winning meant.”
“So you desire to win?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“To an extent, yes.”
“I’m sure you want to put out the best wine possible, right?”
“Of course. But there are limits. I wouldn’t forgo eating homecooked food or taking time out for other things we need in life.”
My eyes washed over the handsome face of the man across from me, and I tilted my head. “What other things do you need in life, Matteo?”
“Health. Joy. Family. Friends.”
I frowned. At the ripe old age of thirty-one, I had only two living relatives left—an aunt on my mother’s side, and a great-aunt on my father’s side, who didn’t even speak English. Matteo must’ve noticed my face.
“I’m sorry. That was insensitive. You just lost your grandmother.”
I forced a smile. “It’s fine. It only stings because you’re right. I haven’t prioritized the important things in my life. My mom has a sister who took me in for a year after my parents passed away, and I’m not even great about keeping in touch with her anymore.” I sipped my wine.
“Your parents died in an accident when you were young, yes?”
I nodded. “I was seventeen. Bad weather. My mom had a doctor’s appointment and didn’t want to drive in the snow, though it was only flurrying when they left. By the time they were on the way home, it was coming down hard. They skidded when they tried to stop and…” I shook my head. “That was that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “But damn, maybe this is why I worked so much. Making new friends can be depressing.”
The corner of Matteo’s mouth tugged a little. “Perhaps we should lighten things up?”
“Good idea. How about we talk about that Romeo you have working for you? He’s pretty amusing.”
The smile on Matteo’s face disappeared. “I have some dead relatives we can talk about instead.”
I laughed. “He’s certainly charming.”
Matteo grunted. “He’s something…”
“He thinks we’re soulmates.”
“Oh yeah?” He stabbed at his risotto with his fork. “So you’re going to go out with him?”
“Gosh, no. He’s nineteen.”
“His last girlfriend was in her thirties.”
“Well, even if the age difference didn’t bother me, I don’t believe in soulmates. That’s just branding for the idiots who don’t sign a prenup.”
Matteo chuckled, and the tension that had been in his face since I’d mentioned Tomasso seemed to dissipate. “Glad you declined. Now I won’t have to kick the kid’s ass if he does something wrong.”
“What might he have done wrong?”
Matteo’s eyes dropped to my lips. “Taking you out, for starters.”
Oh, wow. Not what I expected for an answer. I wasn’t even positive if he meant it the way I took it, but I liked it when he looked at me that way—like he was hungry for more than just what was on his plate.
I shoved more risotto into my mouth to keep from saying something I’d regret, and when I looked over at Matteo’s plate, I found it empty. “Would you like more?”
“Sure. But I’ll get it.” He stood. “You keep eating.”
Matteo came back with a second heaping plate and refilled both our wine glasses before digging in.
“Thank you,” I said. “By the way, while you were upstairs working, I took the tarp off the Vespa. It’s not just purple it’s bright purple.”
“Your grandmother, she got it a few years back. She zipped around town like a madwoman on dat thing.”
Picturing it made me smile. “It started right up. Would you mind giving me a lesson?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, but if you insist on driving it, yeah…I teach you.” He lifted his wine glass, tilting it to me. “In the daylight, when we aren’t finishing a bottle of wine.”
“Okay!” I smiled. “Also, would you happen to know where my grandmother’s sister lives? The attorney gave me an envelope to give her.”
“Anna?” He nodded. “She’s in Cortona.”