Page 59 of It's All Sun and Games

I’m left speechless, my mind racing at the thought of working here in Bari, instead of being stuck in Manchester all the time. My imagination is running away with me – too fast for me to even take in what I’m thinking, but I know that I want this.

‘Thanks for the insider intel,’ I say sincerely. ‘I won’t say a word. Is the dinner tonight anything to do with work?’

‘Not really,’ Andrea answers, shaking his head. ‘I think Rick is trying to impress Beppe, treating him to dinner, and he needs me there to translate. I asked if you could come too. This is your chance to show Beppe how great you are, and that you’re the right person for the job.’

The way Andrea supports me, and believes in me, means so much to me. It’s so nice that he always has my back – whether it’s rooting for me with work, or getting me off a drug charge.

‘Was Beppe livid that you messed with his sauce?’ I dare to ask. ‘I don’t think he was expecting that.’

Andrea laughs.

‘It was okay,’ he replies. ‘He asked me what I did, why I did it – and then he complimented me, on my flavours. When he found out about my job he was really interested. He wants to talk more, to see if I’ll maybe try his products, see if I can suggest any more changes. I told him about my job offer, to go and work in LA for a while, though, so who knows?’

‘Oh, well, if you get some work out of this, even better then, right?’ I reply. ‘Or is the plan to move to LA soon?’

Andrea shrugs casually.

‘I don’t know what to do. It’s a great opportunity, in a beautiful place, and the work sounds like something I will really enjoy – my dream job, basically. But it will be so hard to be so far from my family, especially my nonna.’

Andrea’s expression changes all of a sudden.

‘Robin, my family don’t know anything about this yet,’ he says quickly. ‘So, if we can please keep it a secret, until I know what I’m doing? I need to tell them properly.’

‘Oh, of course,’ I reply, hopefully making it clear that I mean it.

‘We Italians, we are so dramatic,’ he explains with an amused snort. ‘If anyone found out anything this week, I would ruin the wedding, ruin Nonna’s birthday, ruin everyone’s lives…’

I laugh.

‘With Come a Casa, if I help Beppe – if his ready-made meals are too good – it will put chefs out of business, so I need to be careful,’ Andrea says with a laugh, changing the subject.

I’m pretty sure he’s joking – or half-joking, at least. I suppose that’s a good point – when you think of Italian food, you think of fresh ingredients, saucepans bubbling away on a stove, simmering for hours to make the perfect sauce – something that Andrea tells me will taste different in every household, because most families have their recipes that are handed down from generation to generation. You certainly don’t think of ready meals, jars of premade sauce, and things like that. Then again, if you had a chef like Andrea coming up with amazing recipes for you, bringing that usually hard-earned home cooking into the homes of people who want something delicious, and authentic, but don’t have the time to do so, well, surely that’s a genuine recipe for success? After what I tasted earlier (and his winning bruschetta that I tried at his parents’ restaurant), I’m pretty sure I would buy anything that he made now.

‘Okay, let’s go get ready,’ I say excitedly, now I know that there is something seriously good to play for.

God, I want this job. I don’t just want it, I need it. This could be the thing that I’ve been craving, the shake-up that my life deserves. A change of pace, a change of scenery and, no offence to Manchester, but what a scenery upgrade it would be. Back home, if I fancy a sunny day at the beach, I have to wait for those one or two weeks of the year where we actually get nice weather, then head over to Blackpool and hope it isn’t rammed – and it absolutely always is, because we Brits have to chase that sun while it’s there. Blackpool or Bari? There’s no contest, is there? Ta-ra Lancashire, ciao Puglia.

‘That’s not what you told Liz we were going to do,’ Andrea reminds me with a wink.

I chuckle, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.

‘I did say that, didn’t I?’ I reply with a grin. ‘I think she’s in the apartment below us so, if we hear her down there, we’ll just have to bang on the floor.’

Andrea smirks and sniggers.

‘Okay, your English is too good, I’m going to have to watch what I say around you,’ I say with a laugh. ‘I mean, like, make noise. Not… that.’

‘I know, I know,’ Andrea reassures me with a gentle laugh. ‘Let’s see if we can get you the job first. Then see how you feel.’

His easy confidence is so contagious, and so charming. I laugh along with him – in fact, I never seem to stop smiling when I’m around him.

Okay, so I don’t plan on making it up to him like that (not that I’m – in theory – totally against the concept of banging him on the floor), but I do hope that by going to the wedding with him, I’m giving him something as invaluable as what he is giving me.

And, who knows, perhaps if I do get the job and end up working here even for a while, then at least we can be friends, briefly, before he jets off to LA… I don’t know when that will be but I get the feeling that it is soon.

I feel… things, about the idea of Andrea moving to America. I’m not sure what, or if I have any right to, but, oh, I don’t know. I can’t think about that now.

My mind is running away from me. I need to actually get the job first. Here’s hoping tonight helps.

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