Читать книгу Recipe For Disaster - Нина Харрингтон - Страница 8

‘Oh, you should have seen your face,’ Alex managed to get out as she wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘It was priceless.’

‘You,’ Bunty replied, her hand still pressed against her throat as she fought to bring down her heart rate, ‘are a menace. I could have had a heart attack. And think of the bad influence you are having on your baby sister. Shocking example.’

‘Were you really scared?’ Fran asked and flung her arms around Bunty’s neck and shoulders. ‘We thought it would be nice to give you a treat for once seeing as you cook for us nearly every day. I did the balloons and Alex made the hot chocolate just the way you like it.’

Bunty patted Fran’s arm and reassured her. ‘Not scared. Just taken by surprise.’

It was impossible to be annoyed with a girl who thought it was normal to wear a lime-green T-shirt with a scarlet red dragon logo and matching Chinese silk pants while vacuuming up dried pasta shells.

‘My own recipe, of course.’ Alex wafted a steaming beaker of chocolatey loveliness in front of Bunty’s nose and gestured for her to sit at the kitchen table. ‘And before you say it, yes, I know it’s my one and only recipe but not all of us are blessed with your culinary genius.’

‘Then it is a good thing that I adore your hot chocolate.’ Bunty smiled and lifted the beaker with both hands towards her nose. ‘Oh, that cinnamon smells so good.’

‘Don’t forget the vanilla extract and cream! Secret ingredients. Do you like the balloons?’

Bunty grinned up at the bunch of fluorescent-pink gas-filled balloons that Fran had tied to the back of her chair. They bobbed up and down in the air telling the world that she had not turned thirty at all. She was twenty-one with nine years’ added experience.

A feeling of overwhelming emotion bubbled up from the centre of her heart reserved for happy days, which had not seen much use of late.

‘They are the best balloons that I have ever seen in my entire life. Thanks, girls. You are the best. I…I don’t know what I would do without you.’ Suddenly her throat felt quite sore and words were a tad difficult.

‘Oh, Lord, she’s going.’ Alex waved frantically at her sister. ‘Fran. Quick. We need more hazelnut biscotti. Go, go, go.’

The second Fran jogged out into the deli, Alex scooted around the table and leant her head against Bunty’s shoulder.

‘Come on. Tell your aunty Alex. Why are you in the grumps? What’s going on?’

Bunty took a sip of the hot chocolate and waited until the delicious warmth had eased away the tension in her stiff shoulders before replying. ‘Is it that obvious? Well, if you must know I had always imagined that I would have achieved a lot more in my career by the time I reached thirty and the more I think about it, the more I feel like a big fat failure.’

‘Well, that’s crazy. So what would it take to make you feel better? Besides my hot chocolate, of course.’

‘Besides that, funding to open another deli some time in the next six months would be nice. I have the orders and I know that I could make a go of it. But I’m not sure I want to go cap in hand to yet another bank. Not yet anyway.’

‘Why not? You will get the funding you need. I’m sure of it. I mean, look at you.’

Alex waved her arm around. ‘Gorgeous girl. Busy deli and ideas to open more like it. Plenty of pubs and bistros clamouring to serve your grub. There are loads of reasons why a bank would fall over itself to loan you the cash to fund an expansion. And I know you have a brilliant business plan because I helped you write it.’

‘Yes, you did. And it is brilliant. Except for one thing. Security. The last two banks I went to both wanted me to take a mortgage out on the deli as security for the loan. I can’t do it, Alex. Won’t do it. All I have to do is remember how much trouble my mum got into over the years and it scares me witless. I’ve only just stopped paying off all of the loans she took out to try and keep her dreams alive. I can’t take the risk of losing the deli. We sacrificed so much to keep it going. It’s the only thing that nobody can take away from me.’

Alex grabbed her hand, gave it a squeeze, then topped up their hot chocolate and nodded. ‘Keep the deli. Righty. Now we know what we need to do. Got it. What about the Brannigans?’

‘They would help if they could but the family are way too busy organising the latest Brannigan wedding for me to bother them with my problems. My uncle Pat sent me a lovely birthday card.’

Bunty narrowed her eyes. ‘And before you go there, I would eat my own feet before I asked the Carusos for a loan.’

Alex coughed and choked on a biscuit crumb and washed it down before answering. ‘Hey. It’s me. I would never say the C word in your presence. I suppose Luca has been begging you to write more cook books for him when your deal ends next week?’

Bunty lifted both of her hands high into the air in a dramatic flourish. ‘Begging and pleading. Emails coming in every week offering me an extension.’

Alex giggled and shuffled in her seat like an overexcited five-year-old high on sugar and artificial colours. ‘Did you make him grovel? Did you? Did you?’

‘Of course. Then I declined his offer in a polite and totally professional manner. It was a glorious moment. There are five more days left on my contract with Luca. Count them. Five. Then I shall finally be free. No more writing cook books for Luca. No more working for a pittance. Free to do what I want with my genius.’

Alex lifted her beaker in a toast. ‘Now that is something worth celebrating. Busy or not, it’s your thirtieth birthday. You are coming out to party this evening and enjoy yourself even if I have to drag you out. You know you want to. I can see you weakening.’

‘You are so bossy.’ Bunty paused, then lifted her chin and blinked a few times, then nodded. ‘And I hate it when you are so blindingly right. I should celebrate. These past few months have been tough but I survived the first Christmas without Mum. This is it, Alex. Tomorrow morning the new Bernadette will be in charge. No more messing about on the side lines. No more saying no to opportunities when they come along. This time next year I will be running, not one, but two Brannigans delis and my life will be back in control. No matter what. Deal?’

‘Deal. That’s why you love me.’ Alex looked up at the sound of rustling from the deli. ‘Now where is my lovely sister with the biscotti and…? Oh, my!’ Then her eyes widened with just enough of a sharp intake of breath to make Bunty swing around in her chair to see what all of the fuss was about.

‘Bunty.’ Fran giggled and pressed her fingers to her mouth. ‘You have a…visitor.’

Fran was right. She did have a visitor.

Because strolling into her kitchen was the same man she had just been looking at in a bookshop window.

Luca Caruso.

In the flesh.

Right down to the silk and cashmere midnight-blue suit and gleaming white shirt and a natural tan that told her more than she wanted to know about where he had spent the winter.

Luca was holding a bouquet of yellow rose buds in one hand and in the other one of the pastry cream cannoli from her chiller cabinet. He was calmly nibbling at it as though he walked into his cousin’s deli every day of the week.

The whole scene was so surreal Bunty blinked several times to make sure that she was not imagining it. He had stolen one of her cannoli and was eating it. In front of her! In her kitchen!

What the…?

‘Hi, Bunty. I hope you don’t mind me popping in unannounced.’ Luca smiled between bites of the cannoli, revealing his excellent dental work. ‘But I was in this part of town for a book signing and I thought it would be mightily rude not to say hello.’ He stepped forwards and presented her with the roses. ‘These are for you, by the way. Happy birthday. I see that you are having a lovely tea party.’

Then his gaze shifted along the table and just for a second Bunty was so stunned that all she could think about was that the Botox injections he was having were totally amazing. His eyebrows lifted but his brow was rigid.

‘Is that Alex McGee? Wow. This is turning out to be my lucky day. Looking good, Alex!’

Alex replied with a snort through her nose. ‘What! Looking good? Don’t you tell me that I am looking good, mister. You stink. Do you really think you can turn up after all these years and make yourself at home as though you own the place?’

Luca leant against the edge of the table with his legs crossed and finished off his cannoli. ‘Such sweetness and light. It’s good to know that some things stay the same, Alex. Whereas Bunty here has made some serious changes to this place.’ His gaze scanned the kitchen and Bunty could almost feel those blue eyes rest on the immaculate stainless-steel pans and work surfaces.

‘Impressive. Very impressive. Congratulations, Bunty.’

By pressing her fingernails deep into her palm Bunty managed to both keep a faint smile on her face and not throw the hot-chocolate dregs at Luca’s smug and condescending and so very handsome, perfect face. It would almost be worth it to see the chocolate drip down his pristine shirt.

But that was what he expected her to do. And she was better than that. A lot better.

So instead she made a fuss of smelling the roses and taking a moment before she lifted her chin and replied in as calm a voice as she could manage. ‘Thank you, Luca. How very kind of you to pop in. It has been such a long time since you last graced us with your presence. Is this a social call?’

He tipped two fingers to his perfectly cut dark hair in salute. He pushed out his lower lip and bowed slightly from the waist in her direction. ‘The only reason that I am signing books today is because of the great work that you have been doing to make those books so successful over the years. You’ve been fantastic. So, I thought that I would deliver your end-of-contract bonus in person.’

Luca carefully brushed the pastry crumbs from his fingers before reaching into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulling out a folded piece of paper with two fingers.

It took him all of two strides with his long slim legs to cover the floor between them, and then Luca stretched out his hand and presented the cheque to Bunty with a small flourish. ‘Thanks for all of your help, Bunty. I mean that.’

She took the paper, unfolded it in silence, and then looked at the number handwritten on the cheque. Then looked again. ‘Are you sure this is right? I wasn’t expecting this much.’

And was instantly thumped hard in the arm by Alex, who peered at the cheque and sniffed. ‘Ah! Not nearly enough to cover all of the aggro you have had to put up with over the years.’

Luca narrowed his eyes and pointed two fingers towards Alex. ‘You are quite right. I have added a little extra as my personal thanks, which I hope you will accept. In exchange for some of your time.’

‘My time?’ Bunty coughed out loud as Alex gasped in disbelief, but Luca held up both hands in surrender and laughed. ‘Relax. Let me finish and then I shall head off to the book signing and leave you in peace. Okay?’

His shoulders seemed to drop into a relaxed pose and for the first time since he came into the room Bunty saw what looked like a real light in Luca’s eyes. Something close to being genuine, so when he spoke the words still took a while to sink in.

‘I am thinking of changing the company slogan.’ He smiled, then traced some letters in the air. ‘The Caruso Family Kitchen. What do you think of that crazy notion?’

Then he folded his arms and leant back before speaking. ‘Traditional recipes that have been handed down from generation to generation. And…’ He paused and licked his lower lip, and the breath caught in Bunty’s throat.

Here it comes. This is the pitch. This is really what he came here to say.

‘We are going to need a new cook book of family recipes to come out at the same time as the TV campaign. New branding on the supermarket ranges. The lot. I’m actually quite excited about it. Ah yes, I can see you are surprised. I know. It would be a completely different direction from the modern Mediterranean food people are used to seeing, but I think it will work. Especially if both the Caruso cousins are involved.’

He nodded. Twice. With his lips pressed firmly together. ‘That’s right. Your name would be on the cover and photo on the back page with all of your contact details. I owe you, Bunty. You can be damned sure that I will sing your praises to the rooftops – I can promise you that. Joint TV interviews. Radio. Full press coverage. We will even film the promo adverts right here in the deli. Plus half the advance and any of the royalties we pick up. Fifty/fifty all the way down the line.’

Luca must have seen the expression on Bunty’s face because he half reared back. ‘Now don’t give me that look as though you are going to say no. Will you at least think about it? Take your time. No pressure. But if it is something you would like to do… I will make it happen. The advance is going to be at least six figures or I’m sacking my agent. Call you tomorrow.’

Then without asking permission or seeking forgiveness, Luca picked up Bunty’s hand, kissed the back of her knuckles and gave it a squeeze before releasing it. With a quick wink at Fran and a kissy kissy mwah mwah sound towards Alex, he flicked one hand in the air and then bowed to all three of them.

‘Ladies. It has been a delight but now I must leave you and meet my adoring fans. Don’t get up. I shall see myself out. Ciao, bellas.’

And with a quick wave over one shoulder he strode out of her kitchen and a second later the doorbell chimed as the door closed behind him.

Bunty sat in silence looking at the space where he had been standing, then glanced back at Alex, who was doing her famous gaping-fish-mouth impersonation, and finally at Fran, who was smiling and shaking her head.

‘Look at the state of you two.’ Fran chuckled. ‘You would think that you had never seen a handsome Italian before. What a performance that was. That boy should have been an actor. Although…’ she took a second to nod ‘…that new recipe book is not a bad idea, Bunty. You could use that kind of publicity and the food sounds great. The money would come in handy too.’

Bunty sat back in her chair, picked up her drink and swallowed it down in silence, her brain reeling, her head thumping and her legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

‘Did I just imagine it?’ Alex muttered. ‘Or did Luca Caruso just walk in here as though he owned the place and try to bribe you to work for him again?’

‘Oh, that was Luca, all right,’ Bunty whispered. ‘No doubt about it.’

‘Amazing.’ Alex blinked. ‘I mean. I hate to give the creep any credit, but it takes a serious amount of ego to pull off that trick!’

‘Is it a trick?’

Alex opened her mouth to reply, closed it again with a snap and whirled around in her chair with her arms folded.

‘Please don’t tell me that you are even thinking about taking his offer. This is Luca! Faker extraordinaire. He will make sure that he rips you off one way or another to line his own pockets.’

Bunty focused her gaze on the cup that she was cradling in her hands. ‘What have I just been saying about seizing every opportunity I can get? I need the money. I need the publicity. And it is exactly the kind of traditional Italian food that I supply across London. So, yes, I am thinking about it. I am thinking about it a lot.’

‘Oh, Bunty. I thought you wanted to be free of the Carusos.’

‘I do, Alex. I do. But I am thirty and my dream of running a chain of Brannigans delis seems to be as far away as ever. This way I am working with Luca – not for him. Fifty/fifty. That was what he said and I will hold him to that. Equal partners. Promotional videos filmed right here. That’s new. Perhaps… Perhaps we can work together on those terms? I might be okay with that. A new opportunity, remember?’

Alex exhaled slowly and shook her head before rubbing the back of Bunty’s neck.

‘Make it sixty/forty. If that boy needs your help so badly that he would lower himself to turn up in person and turn on the charm, then he can afford to give you a decent percentage of the loot. Of course we shall have to find a bulldog lawyer to tie him down on the numbers and make sure that your names are the same size on the cover. And if he wants to use those recipes of yours in this new supermarket range? That is going to cost him a helluva lot extra. Think about that!’

Bunty replied by slumping forwards in her chair and pressing her fingertips into her forehead. ‘Just when I thought things were finally getting clearer. What a mess.’

Alex snorted back and waved her fingers in Bunty’s direction. ‘You think this is a mess, try Gatwick airport on a Friday afternoon! Although there were some advantages.’

She leant towards Bunty and smiled grimly through half-closed eyes. ‘I had no idea that airport shops carried such a wide selection of non-black clothing. Especially plum chiffon cocktail dresses. And shoes, and bags, and other fripperies! For once, you can have something made by another pair of hands to wear at your own birthday party.’

Bunty could not help but smile back. ‘That was very thoughtful. Thanks. But plum? Not so sure about that one with my hair, but, yes, you are right. As usual.’ She hesitated before going on. ‘Alex, after what happened just now with Luca, I need to get my head around what I need to do next. Don’t say anything just yet. It might be too early to celebrate.’

A trim French-manicured and moisturised hand was flung up in front of her face – palms forward. ‘Understood. My lips are sealed and shall only be opened by copious glasses of fine wine. And yes, I know that Luca has always been the golden princeling of the Caruso family, but tonight is your night and nobody is going to spoil your birthday party.’

Then she jumped up and stretched out both hands. ‘Righty. Let’s get you ready. Cinders shall go to the ball!’