Page 104 of The Bonus

I look at the pot of spaghetti sauce, I really don’t want him to eat it.

Fuck this, why didn’t I order pizza tonight like I wanted to?

“What is your teacher’s name?” he asks as he tries to continue the conversation.

I dish out the kids’ two bowls and then mine, and then I get to his.

What do I do?

He’s going to hate it, he’s going to really hate it… But what if… I glance over my shoulder to see if he’s watching me.

“Are you two in the same class?” He continues trying to make conversation.

If he’s going to hate it anyway, I’m going to make him really hate it. I open my fridge and scan the contents, what can I put in it?

I need the ultimate booby trap. Don’t mess with me, fucker.

My eyes roam over the condiments in the door and take out the mustard, the pickles, jarred chilli, anchovies, and pickled onions.

“And is she nice?” Gabriel asks.

Lucy goes off on a big tangent, telling him all about the school and I get to work.

I turn up the heat on the saucepan and glance over my shoulder again. If he catches me doing this, I’m so dead.

I put in three tablespoons of mustard, pour in the chilies and then the pickles, I add half the jar of anchovies and then throw in some whole pickled onions.

That should do it.

I stir it to heat them through. I wince as I look into the pot, it kind of looks like a fishy eyeball stew.

“Hope you guys are ready for a taste sensation.” I dish Gabriel out a huge bowl and roll my lips to hide my smile.

“Did you get this recipe from Becco?” he asks.

“Oh, Becco.” I sigh sadly. “I miss Becco.” I frown over at him. “How do you remember my favorite restaurant in New York?”

“How could I ever forget, it’s all you ever talked about.”

Did I really use to always talk about pasta? How odd.

Hmm…

I put everyone’s bowls in front of them on the table and Gabriel looks down at his eyeball stew. I quickly turn back to the counter so that he doesn’t see my face, and I sip my wine while imagining him choking on it.

I’m brilliant.

I sit down at the table and look over at Dom glaring at Gabriel across the table.

My heart sinks.

I need to fix this, if this is their final goodbye I want it to be nice for both of them.

“Dom.” I smile. “Gabriel is Italian, he comes from Italy.”

Dom’s eyes flick to Gabriel for confirmation.

“I am.” Gabriel nods.

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