Page 47 of For Butter or Worse
“Okay.” She took the bait. “UOVO is one of my favorite small Italian restaurants in the city. They ship their pasta in from Bologna, and—”
“Bologna has the best pasta in all of Italy.” He smiled. “I did my research this time. I know all about UOVO, and how they have actual Italian grandmothers making the pasta by hand in Bologna.”
She assumed Leo would try hard to win over the chefs, but she hadn’t expected him to study them. His attempt to make a good impression wasn’t lost on her, though. She felt the urge to smile encouragingly, but instead she raised her eyebrows. “A pasta scholar!”
“You can call me Doctor Pasta, if you choose.” When he looked at her, there was humor in his eyes, and they shared a moment before looking away.
They approached one of the white tents, where a display of fresh, uncooked pastas sat under a glass case. She spied Antonio, the bona fide Italian head chef at UOVO. He wore an UOVO baseball cap and smiled widely when he saw her.
“Nina! When I heard you were coming, I made a special plate for you.”
On the table, there were small, recyclable plates of their killer cheese tortellini smothered in a thick Parmesan cheese sauce. But Antonio ducked behind the tent, then emerged with a much larger and more colorful plate.
“Oh, no.” She laughed. She knew what this plate was. When she’d first gone to UOVO and sat at the counter with her sister, they’d ordered the ravioli, covered in a gorgeous tomato sauce. But she’d told Antonio he needed to pair that ravioli with a sweeter version. Salty and sweet, the way every meal should flow.
“Pumpkin ravioli for you, principessa! This is the pumpkin ravioli of your dreams, I promise you that.” He handed her the plate with a fork. The dish smelled like nutmeg mixed with Parmesan. She wasn’t going to last long at the food festival if she ate the whole thing on her own.
“If anyone can turn me into a believer, it’s you, Antonio. And I’ll need two forks.” She looked up at Leo and squeezed his hand to signal this was his cue. The last time she’d introduced him to a chef, he’d choked. She hoped that this connection would be better. They both made Italian food, were both Italian.
“This is my boyfriend.” Had she really just saidboyfriend? Could she sound any more ridiculous? Though the word had swirled out as easily as pouring a glass of wine.
If Leo was fazed, he didn’t show it.
“Leo O’Donnell,” he added. “I’m thrilled to meet you. My work schedule has kept me from visiting the restaurant in person. I’m glad I get to taste the pasta everyone in the city raves about.”
“I hope you enjoy! I’m a big fan of the show. I knew there was sexy tension between you two.” Antonio pointed his finger accusingly at them. “Naughty Nina.”
He probably wishes there was a wall between us, Nina thought.
Antonio handed Leo a fork. “It’s all about the pasta with Italian food, no?”
“It really is.” Leo smiled and relaxed.
This is going well. Even if he would never be comfortable with her again post-Kissgate, she still wanted to fulfill her promise. She owed him for all his efforts thus far.
“My brother makes our pasta by hand at the Pasadena location, but I’d love to hear more about where you’re getting yours. We’re always looking for ways to improve.”
“Let’s talk over pasta? Maybe there’s some kind of partnership we can do. You come to my restaurant, I’ll come to yours, huh?” Antonio leaned across the table, his eager smile genuine and warm.
“Let’s do that.” Leo looked enthused.
This was how she’d wanted Leo to be at the Sunset Grande, but the second time was apparently the charm.
Antonio took a card off the table and wrote his cell number on it before handing it over. “You call me anytime, yes?”
Then he turned to her. “And, Nina, you better tell me what you think of that ravioli!”
“By the smell of it, you’ve outdone yourself.” The plate was warm in her palms. She couldn’t wait to dig in.
“Prego!” Antonio nodded goodbye to them.
“Way to go, Doctor Pasta,” she said to Leo as they walked away from the booth.
“That wasn’t me—you made a great intro. And how cool that he cooked you a special pasta. But I’m sure that happens all the time.”
“Thanks.” She wasn’t used to getting compliments from Leo, and she fought the urge to say something sarcastic back. “What did you think of Antonio?”
“I might have a man crush.” Leo blushed so deeply it was almost charming.Almost.“Having him come to our restaurant would be next level. My dad would’ve flipped to meet another Italian chef.”
