Chapter eleven: Italian food

Not a fan

My stomach growled as soon as she was done speaking. The sound was so loud that everyone in the car heard it. It sounded like a mini earthquake. 

I flushed red to the root of my nerves while Amelia's left brow hiked up to her face. I prayed for the ground to open up and swallow me, saving me from this bad embarrassing moment.

"Rocky take us to Drago Centro," she said to the driver. It was the goon with smooth shaved head.

When we arrived at the restaurant, Rocky came and opened the door for Amelia and I, and we stepped out.

The sight of the chic Italian restaurant made me turn and look at Amelia. Don't we need to reserve a table? 

She shook her head. I know the owner, she answered and started towards the entrance. 

When we walked in we were met at the door by a formerly dressed  waiter who immediately recognized Amelia. 

"Mrs Valentine," he greeted politely with familiarity. Please follow me. 

We did. 

The inside was warm, filled with chatters of the diners and the delicious dishes in front of them. 

I couldn't resist casting my eyes around. The place was a blend of sophistication and elegance. 

The fair skinned waiter lead us to the garden room, and stopped at a two man table. He pulled out the seat for Amelia, but then she surprised me when she moved aside and let me seat first. 

She walked around the table to the seat across from mine, and pulled her seat for herself. 

The waiter waited patiently for us to settle down before he spoke. 

"Are you ready to order now, or do you want me to come back in a minute?" 

"Come back in a minute," Amelia answered picking up the menu. 

I did as well, and stared at the menu wondering what to order. I wasn't much of a fan of Italian food. 

I felt Amelia look at me and raised my head in her direction. 

"What are you getting?"

"Mmm," I stared at the menu, running my eyes over all the food trying to make a choice. 

"Do you want me to order for you?" 

"Please," I gave her a pleading look that brought out a light smile from her. 

"Alright. They have a wonderful Cesar salad which I am..."

I made a face at the salad. 

She chuckled softly. 

The sound was amazing and unexpected and it made me stare at her. 

She has a beautiful smile.

"What?" 

"Nothing," I looked down to my menu.

She continued to stare at me which reminded me that she doesn't like when I don't answer her question. 

"You laughed. Didn't expect that," I muttered without looking up from the menu in my hand. I felt a slight heat inside me admitting that to her.

"I believe you have a very low opinion of me," she casually commented, taking her stare away. 

I looked up to refute her words but she has moved on to another subject. 

"So you are not a fan of salad?"

I nodded my head. "Not filling. I love to eat," I said with a little bit of embarrassment. 

She looked straight at me, her eyes burning into my face. "You don't look it," she commented in a neutral tone, like she was commenting about the weather instead of paying me a compliment.

"Thank you," I said shyly, but her attention has already moved on. 

She hailed down one of the waiters. 

When the young woman arrived at our table, she ordered for the both of us. 

She went for the salad and for me, she ordered Risotto, and Pesce Spada. 

She is also ordered a bottle of wine to go along with our food.

"What is that?" I asked when the waitress walked away from our table. 

"Which one?" She asked wearing a teasing expression on her face. 

I rolled my eyes at her. "All of it." 

"Well, the Risotto is seafood, camaroli rice, saffron. Tried it once, very creamy and tasty. You will like it." 

I nodded even though I was worried that it will not be my taste. 

"And the other? Pesh Spa something." 

She smiled at the way I butchered the name. "Pesce Spada." 

She pronounced it so well, with a perfect Italian accent that I was amazed by it. 

"It is Roasted Swordfish, potato puree, asparagus, basil."

"Do you speak Italian?" 

"Si"

"That means yes, right?" 

She nodded. 

"Have you been?" I have never left the State and will one day wish to travel and explore the world. 

"Yeah. Lots of times. It is a wonderful place for vacation. Wonderful weather, and interesting places to see." 

Her blue eyes lit up as she spoke about Italy. 

There was no doubt that she loves it. Whenever she talks about things that interest her, a little sparkles appears in her blue eyes making them look like they have stars in them. It is amazing to see. 

"You love Italy," I commented on the obvious. 

She nodded, but didn't expatiate on her reason. 

Before I could ask the waitress arrived bearing our food. 

I inhaled the delicious smell coming from the dishes in the tray. Maybe Amelia is right and I would love the food here. 

While the waitress was placing our food in front of us my phone pinged. I picked it up and checked. It was Tony. 

"Hey." 

His text read. 

I frowned as I contemplated whether to text him bad. I was reluctant to text him. Replying to his text is usually how it starts, and before you know it he is coming to my house and we are rolling around on the bed like bunnies. 

I meant it when I told him it was over between us. The only thing we had in common was the physical attraction, and even that was getting boring. 

"Is there a problem?" 

I looked away from my phone to Amelia. While I was busy with my phone the waitress finished setting the food and left us alone. 

"No." I dropped the phone, ready to forget my ex, and dig into the tasty looking meal in front of me. 

I started with the Risotto. I carefully took a spoon and slowly brought it to my mouth. I was acting like the food was poisoned, but I was just wry of the taste. I haven't had this before. When it comes to food I am the least adventurous person. 

I felt Amelia's gaze on me as the food went from the plate to my mouth. 

She waited until I had it fully in my mouth before asking. "Good?" 

I nodded, unable to speak as I was busy savoring the melting creamy taste of the rice. 

She looked pleased with herself at my answer.

The Risotto tasted so good that I immediately went for a second spoon, and this time there was no caution in my action. 

"Wine?" Amelia asked again. I nodded and she poured the red wine into my glass. 

We didn't chat much, because I am not the kind of person that talks while eating. Food is one of the things in life that I really enjoy, so when I am eating I love to give it all my attention. 

It didn't take long for me to polish everything in my plate. When I was done I relaxed back in my seat with a satisfied expression on my face. 

This is the best Italian dish I have ever eating. 

I lifted my wine glass to take a sip when I became aware of Amelia staring at me. 

"Is there food on my face?" I used my hand to wipe my face, an embarrassed flush heating up my cheeks. I had been so into the dish in front of me that I hadn't paid attention to anything else. 

"No dear, just love watching you eat. You take pleasure in your food, it is endearing to see." 

I blushed harder, not knowing how to take compliments from her. "Thank you," I said softly. 

She nodded and looked away from me. Her plate too was empty.

I searched my head for something to say. Now I was done with my food the silence at the table was beginning to feel a little awkward. At least on my part. Amelia looked very comfortable in the silence. Her attention currently on her phone, while she sipped her wine. 

She was holding the wine glass delicately, displaying a set of finely red coated long finger nails.

"So how long have you lived in LA?" I asked wanting to know more about the woman across from me.