Page 58 of Eat Your Heart Out
Gerard
First, we found a small restaurant for breakfast once we left the ship, and I took meticulous notes on everything. The Balcony restaurant attached to the Grand Hotel Azores Atlantico deserved its four-point-nine-star rating.
The staff were attentive, and every bite was made-to-order and delicious.
Ali hadn’t said much. I half wondered if she would ask for a plane ticket to leave. Her preoccupation was obvious.
I paid the bill, and we left. We walked along the streets with small white buildings and palm trees.
“So, what did you think?” I asked.
She gazed up at me, and the sun was in her eyes, so she squinted with a bright smile. “Are you joking? You know that was amazing.”
My heart pounded. She sounded happy. Good. I put my hands in my pockets. “Now it’s your turn.”
She tapped her finger and guided us away from the water. “This job of writing is turning out pretty fun.”
And being there with her was good. I half wondered if I should take my mother’s advice on buying the necklace. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
She sucked on her bottom lip. “Writing about food with you makes me feel… I don’t know… valued.”
“I’m glad.” I decided to have an Azorean necklace delivered to her room on the ship.
Hopefully, she would enjoy the surprise. I texted Zheng to pick it up then noticed we’d wandered into a more residential area. She had a bounce to her step when I slipped my phone back in my pocket. She'd needed a pick-me-up.
“Working together is a blast,” she said.
She peered around the area as we walked, and at a crosswalk, she stared at a restaurant.
I slowed. “Did you find the place you want to write your first blog post about?”
She shook her head and pointed for us to keep going. “Honestly, no. Everything here looks so authentic and delicious.”
We continued to walk, and I debated if I should ask her out on a real date and do more than just review restaurants with her.
At the next corner, I asked, “How about this?”
She shook her head. “Seafood is good, but it looks… fancy, with a lot of stars. I want to find a local spot.”
I nodded and motioned for her to direct us. “We’ll keep looking.”
We walked, and I debated my thoughts.
Then she stopped and checked her phone. With a nod, she tucked it back in her pocket. “Let’s go intoCafe Tres Sonhos. It doesn’t have any reviews or Michelin stars.”
To me, it was more of a bakery than anything else, but I nodded. “Sure, your pick.”
She ordered some appetizers at the counter, pointing to each item. I watched the interaction as she and the older woman enjoyed the attempt to communicate. The woman waved for us to sit at a metal table with metal chairs. Then the same lady left the counter, brought our food, and set up a small flower on the table.
I nodded a thank you, then we both tasted it. The pastry’s filling had texture and a hint of lemon without being aggressive, so it was sweet.
I finished my tart, and Ali wiped her mouth as she finished hers too.
She laughed. “This was delicious.”
The server took the trays and left us a chocolate mousse cake.
I lifted my eyebrows. I would have to work it off later, but I picked up my fork. “Let’s try the cake.”
