Page 27 of Better Than Gelato
I let out a tiny growl of frustration. “Because?—”
He cuts me off before I can finish. “It’s fine. You don’t owe me any explanations. I shouldn’t have asked.”
His voice is kind, but tired. “Look, I had a great time with you on Monday. I thought it was a mutual thing. I get ahead of myself sometimes. It’s not your fault.”
“Itisa mutual thing,” I nearly growl. “I told Carmen it was the best date of my life because I went to the theater! And it was super fancy! But then two days later, I spent the day with you. And my date with Paolo got bumped down to second place. I just haven’t updated Carmen.”
Jake lifts his eyes to meet mine. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm. “But I will be spending a lot of time with Paolo, because we found out we’re best friends.”
“You’re best friends?” His brows crinkle slightly.
“Yep. I’m working on an official secret handshake for us. Don’t ask Paolo about it. He’s embarrassed by his platonic relationship with a girl.”
I see my bus coming and Jake sees it too.
“Thanks for setting me straight tonight,” he says. “And sorry for ignoring you. I was just embarrassed. And disappointed. After Monday, I was already making plans for our next date, and then I heard Carmen, and I felt really stupid.”
“I get it,” I say. I think about my ‘just friends with Jake’ plan, decide it’s inherently stupid, and say, “I can’t wait for our next date.”
“Are you free Friday?” Jake asks. His smile is nervous, and his eyes are hopeful.
“I am.”
“Okay,” he says, his smile growing. “There’s something I think you’ll love.” He kisses my cheek and squeezes my hand and leaves me standing by the bus a little bit breathless.
ChapterSix
“Ciao, bellissima!” Jake calls when he sees me on Friday night. Piazza Duomo is packed, but Jake is standing on top of the steps and hopping from foot to foot, so he’s easy to spot.
“Are you hungry?” he asks me first off.
“Starving,” I reply. “Your text was clear. I ate no dinner and only the tiniest afternoon snack.”
“Perfect,” he says. “I promise it’ll be worth it.”
We grab a bus and head out of downtown. Ten minutes later, we get off at a convention center with a giant sign that says Fiero di Sapori.
“Fair of tastes?” I say looking at Jake.
“More like ‘Festival of Flavors,’ but you get the idea.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me inside, nearly skipping with excitement. The space is huge and smells of garlic, bread, and wine.
“The first weekend in October, Milan hosts a showcase of different culinary specialties from all over Italy,” Jake says. “My colleague told me about it, and I remembered that first night when you ate the pizza. And also how much you loved that seafood risotto. And basically every time I’ve seen you eat something you’ve been so happy about it.”
I see signs for Sicilia, Emilia Romagna, Toscana, and Calabria. A nearby table is filled with samples of salami, cheese, and olives. Another table in this section has jam and honey. People are wandering between tables and sections sampling the different foods, comparing this region’s bread with that region’s bread.
I look at all the tables. I look at Jake. “I am never leaving this place,” I say.
His smile grows even bigger. “I knew it. I knew you would love it here.”
He leads me to a table with squares of fresh focaccia bread, still warm from the oven. There are shallow bowls of shimmering olive oil, some of it dark and opaque, others nearly transparent. We dip our focaccia into the bowls and eat it. It’s more flavorful than such a simple thing has any right to be.
After we try all the samples from the Calabria region, Jake says, “We should take a trip to Calabria.”
In the Emilia Romagna section, a large man with a beard offers us tiny cups of wine. I politely decline.
