When Only Cupcakes Will Do Read Online Free PDF Page B

incognito at Francesca’s that night? What if she made a mistake? Tears breached her lashes again. Who knew that one person could cry so many tears and still have some left in reserve?
    She checked her watch. It was too late to scarper for home now anyway, as the Friday night diners had already started to arrive. But then the tiny part of her reasonable brain still functioning reminded her that Gino was an amazing chef, Antonio was a talented sous chef and Francesca’s Trattoria was the best Italian restaurant in the whole of Hammersmith. A bad review, even from such an alleged gastronomic genius as the guy behind the famous Anon. Appetit , was impossible.

Chapter Four
    â€˜Are you sure you’re okay?’ asked Antonio.
    â€˜I’m fine!’ She forced a false smile to her lips.
    â€˜Well, in that case, perhaps you could try using those delicious toasted pecans instead of ciabatta croutons on your ricotta torte ?’ giggled Sofia, as she returned the offending dessert plate that had been rejected by a disgruntled diner, a wide smile displaying her perfect teeth. ‘Ditzy is adorable, just not tonight, eh? What if this delectable dessert had been destined for our famous anonymous blogger Fran is so obsessed with at the moment?’
    â€˜Oh, God, Sofia, I’m so sorry.’
    Lucie’s sense of humour temporarily deserted her as she slammed the discarded dessert, along with the plate, into the waste bin and shot off to refrost Francesca’s most popular sweet. She wiped the back of her hand over her forehead and swallowed as panic soared through her veins, sparkling out to her fingertips like ribbons of electricity.
    â€˜Don’t tell Fran, please. I’ve already had to bake a new batch of zeppola after my first attempt turned out more like overblown popcorn.’
    â€˜My lips are sealed, mia pulce ,’ Sofia assured her, as she wafted out of the kitchen before reappearing immediately.
    â€˜One tiramisu and a slice of your spectacular mango cheesecake, please,’ called Sofia, her voice bursting through Lucie’s reverie as she jammed the dessert order onto the nail in front of her and disappeared again.
    â€˜Okay,’ she mumbled, barely registering the request.
    She reached for the dessert glasses and assembled the ingredients on autopilot as her thoughts continued to spiral down into a helix of despair. Had her late nights at the restaurant and her desire to squeeze every ounce of knowledge she could from Gino before moving on to start her own business driven Alex into the arms of another woman?
    Oh, God! It was all her fault!
    She grabbed the canister of cocoa powder from a shelf of spices that she’d set out with military precision, and sprinkled a generous dusting over the tiramisu she had prepared earlier. She was so tired, physically and emotionally, that she looked at the soft, smooth surface of cream cheesecake and wondered what sort of pillow it would make. She had been unable to sleep for any more than a couple of hours a night. Her days felt like she’d been cast adrift from her moorings as her emotions swayed from sadness, confusion and misery through to pain and anguish, and finally landed on indignation and anger and a desperate need for answers, before the pendulum swung back again to humiliation, shame and an urge to crawl into a hole and stay there until her heart stopped aching. It was all so exhausting.
    â€˜This the tiramisu?’ enquired a harassed Sofia. Lucie hadn’t even noticed she’d returned and was loitering impatiently at her side.
    â€˜Yes,’ she muttered absently as she set about decanting a vanilla-bean-infused pannacotta and adding swirls of home-made raspberry coulis and mint jam in a lacklustre pattern on a white china plate.
    â€˜Great.’ Sofia sneaked a glance at her. ‘You sure you’re okay, Lucie? You don’t look… well, as though you are totally with us this