Page 22 of Accidental Wedding Crasher
“I like the fruity notes and the crisp aftertaste,” Ellen said. She turned to Mia. “And you, dear? What do you think?”
“Um, it’s nice,” Mia said, feeling immediately inadequate. Ellen gave ahmmthat sounded very telling.
“Are you not a connoisseur of wine?” she asked.
“Not so much,” Mia admitted.
“Well, I suppose it would be hard to afford quality wine on a teacher’s salary, right, dear?” Ellen asked. Her tone was increasingly condescending, and Mia wasn’t sure how to respond. To her relief, the chef called them all over a moment later.
“You’ll be working in teams of five today,” he explained. “So, please find a few other people to work with, and then choose a station. Don’t worry, they’re all the same.”
Arthur gravitated back to his wife, and a tall, handsome man with Evan’s short brown hair and blue eyes drifted over, along with an equally tall and beautiful blond woman.
“And Mia, you’ll join us, of course,” Ellen said. “It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other. Have you met Luka and Sarah yet?”
“Not yet, although you pointed them out to me at brunch.” Mia held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“So, you’re Evan’s girlfriend.” Luka grinned, taking her hand. “I have so many questions.”
“Oh, be nice.” Sarah pulled Mia into a hug, and Mia relaxed a little at her friendliness. “So, Mia, are you a good cook?”
“Not really,” she admitted.
“Is that so?” Ellen raised her eyebrows. “Well, we’ll just see how it goes, then. I think we have our group of five.” Mia’s heart sank. This was going to be a long afternoon of interrogations and snide comments; she was already sure.
Still, it would have been rude to try to find another group. So, they found a station near the back, and one of the chefs came over to instruct them on how to start.
“We’ll be making a simple pasta with two sauces today,” he explained. “As well as an appetizer. The first thing you need to make is the dough.” He explained how to mix semolina, eggs, and a little salt together on the countertop to form a firm dough.
“Why don’t you give it a try, Mia?” Sarah said. Mia bit her lip. Probably Sarah was just being friendly, but the last thing Mia wanted to do was try to cook something in front of these people. Especially when classical music was playing over the speakers, making everything feel very serious.
“Um…” she said. “No, that’s all right.”
“No, come on, dear.” Ellen gestured to the flour and eggs. “Give it a try.”
Her stomach twisting with nerves, Mia poured some semolina onto the countertop, as the chef had instructed, added a pinch of salt, and created a well in the middle for the eggs. The first egg she cracked spilled onto the counter, along with numerous pieces of shell, and Mia wanted to sink into the ground beneath her. She was so out of her element that it wasn’t even funny. Both wine tasting and cooking were two things she was terrible at, and here she was with Evan’s family, without Evan. She’d been worried about how to convince them that she was reallydating Evan, but now she was more worried that they would think she was a complete idiot.
As she thought about the ridiculous situation that she’d found herself in, Mia began to giggle. It was so unfunny that it was almost funny. Maybe, instead of trying to fit in with these rich, judgmental people, she should try to have a little fun. Maybe she could even show them how to have a good time.
“Look.” Mia lifted a dripping piece of eggshell, giggling. “This is going terribly!”
The Hirst family exchanged meaningful glances, and Mia could tell that they didn’t think her mistake was very funny. Oh, well. She’d show them.
Mia cracked another egg, managing to get it into the well this time. As she began to knead the flour and egg together, she shivered at the texture.
“This feels really weird,” she said. “Sarah, would you like to try?” Sarah seemed like the closest thing to an ally here.
“Oh, I can. Okay.” Sarah put her hands into the dough and laughed. “Okay, it is a bit weird. Like touching brains.”
“And she would know,” Ellen said.
“No, not really, I’m actually an orthopedic surgeon and don’t do a lot with brains,” Sarah said with a smile.
“Still, you’vegota brain, so that counts, right?” Mia joked. Sarah laughed, even though it wasn’t very funny, and Luka joined in.
Soon, the chef came by again and gave more instructions. As they formed the dough, chopped tomatoes, ground basil and pine nuts, and shredded cheese, Mia made jokes and let herselfbe silly. Slowly, the Hirsts seemed to be warming up to her. When she accidentally squeezed a tomato while cutting it and some juice splattered onto her apron, she rolled her eyes.
“Look, I’m improving the aprons with a beautiful modern-art pattern,” she joked, spreading her arms to showcase the splatter.
