“Because it’s the truth.”
Using the rolling pin, I roll the cut dough portions into thin sheets. We are making cornetti, Leo’s favorite meal to have for breakfast.
“Personally, I think it’s cool that you’re here,” Blanco says, causing Josie to roll her eyes.
“Do you have to disagree with me all the time?”
“Contrary to what you believe, you are not the center of my world. I say what I want to say, whenever I want to say it, without caring what Josie’s opinion might be.”
It’s been two years, and these two still bicker like an old couple.
Josie huffs, cutting the rolled dough into triangles, “If Hilda were still here, she would agree with me.”
Hilda disappeared some months ago. She didn’t tell anyone where she was going. She just took her things and left the estate, left Sicily. I know she’s not in Sicily because I begged Leo to send one of his spies in search of her. At the end of the day, that wasn’t necessary, because Hilda eventually sent Josie a message. She had eloped with her lover. They were on some island in Greece, where they would live for the rest of their lives.
When Josie informed me, I didn’t believe it at first. I demanded Hilda call us on video, just for proof that she wasn’t kidnapped and held hostage. That was the only condition for me to stop searching for her. She called Josie one random afternoon, and we all saw that she’d been telling the truth.
“Well, too bad she isn’t here,” Blanco murmurs, before adding. “And now, we’re stuck with this new assistant.”
I can’t help but chuckle.
Leo had hired a new kitchen assistant. At first, after we came back from our trip, he wanted me to quit being his chef, but I refused. Cooking was my hobby, and I enjoyed every process of it. Also, I no longer had to make separate meals for my social media channels. I could easily incorporate that with my everyday cooking.
When Leo saw that I wouldn’t budge, he insisted on hiring more assistants. I also refused, but after Hilda left, he went ahead to hire a new assistant named Anna.
At first, Josie and Blanco tried to warm up to her, but after a few weeks, they realized she was just an unfriendly person. She never smiled, even when Blanco cracked the funniest jokes, the only person she acknowledged in the kitchen was me, and that’sbecause I’m essentially her boss. I also heard from Josie that she never talked to any other house worker.
She had taken a leave two days ago, which is why she isn’t with us.
“She’s not that bad,” I say, which earns a snort from Josie.
“Oh please. I don’t like to judge people, but she’s the worst,” Josie retorts, earning a spatula to the head from Blanco in response.
Blanco arches an eyebrow at Josie. “You don’t like to judge people?”
I laugh when Josie hits Blanco back on the head with said spatula.
We carefully roll each triangle, expertly tucking in the fillings, creating the signature crescent shape.
The kitchen hums with laughter and jokes as trays of cornetti are lined up, ready for the oven. We brush each pastry with a delicate egg wash, ensuring a golden, glossy finish. As the cornetti bakes, the kitchen fills with the irresistible scent of warm, buttery pastry.
I feel Leo’s presence in the kitchen before my assistants do. When they spot him, the laughter quickly dies down, and I resist the urge to laugh.
I hum when Leo's arms circle me from behind as he buries his face into my neck.
“I've told you to stay out of here when I'm working,” I scold, though I can't suppress my giggle when his scruffy beards tickle my skin.
“You snuck out of bed this morning,” he counters, his voice husky and deep.
Josie’s cheeks turn pink as she turns to check the oven. Blanco keeps looking anywhere except in our direction. Leo couldn’t care less as he keeps kissing my neck, and I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning.
“You are making my assistants embarrassed,” I manage to say.
Leo makes a sound that sounds like a toddler grumble, before pulling away and commanding, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Wash your hands and come with me.”
I recognize the tone of his voice, and a shiver rolls down my spine as I do what he asks. He quickly takes my hand in his and leads us out of the kitchen. He would have carried me, but I’d warned him previously about PDA in the presence of our workers. Of course, he didn’t care. But he listened anyway, for my sake.
“I’m pissed at you,” Leo says, leading us into his library and shutting the door firmly behind us. Darkness envelopes us, sending a thrill through my veins.