10. Eliza
ELIZA
In the year I’d dated Colin, Leo and I interacted a handful of times. Usually, it was when we were visiting their mom or if Leo was in Madison. Even if we happened to have a conversation that was just between us, there was always someone else around.
Except for two times. Once when I’d called him and once when we almost kissed. The second memory had been harder to kick—as much as I’d tried.
Today, as I walked the few blocks from the yoga studio to Lake Ridge, I thought about the first memory: our phone call.
Colin and I had been together for about six months at that point. Leo and I had conversations here and there, and I’d shared more with him than I expected to. He was easy to talk to, and we just sort of…got each other in a way I hadn’t expected. It was nice. Friendly.
At that point, I knew Leo somewhat well. Not well enough to call him, but I was a little desperate and a whole lot hungry.
A few weekends before, Colin and I had visited Celine, and we’d had an out-of-this-world sausage gnocchi in vodka sauce for dinner. It was incredible.
So incredible that I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the creamy sauce, pan-fried gnocchi, or the smell of sausage, tomato sauce, and fresh basil.
I’d texted her asking if she could share the recipe with me.
I knew whatever I cooked in my college apartment wouldn’t even compare—but I had to try.
She texted me the ingredients and recipe, and that same day I went to the grocery store.
I was still in my pajamas, my hair was a mess, and I was slightly hungover, but none of that mattered.
I left the store with everything I needed.
It wasn’t until I was about halfway through the recipe that I realized Celine had sent me only part of what to do.
My gnocchi, sausage, and onions were cooked—slightly burnt, but it was fine—but I was missing what to do with the sauce.
I’d started it by adding tomato paste, garlic, and crushed red pepper, but I didn’t have the skill to just wing it.
Celine answered within moments of me calling. Papers shuffled on the other end of the line as she looked around for the second page.
“I must’ve misplaced it, Eliza. I’m so sorry. It’s Leo’s recipe, though. I’m sure if you gave him a call, he’d be able to help.”
Confused, I asked, “But didn’t you make it when Colin and I came up a few weekends ago?” I doubted Leo wanted a phone call from me, and I didn’t want to annoy him.
She let out a gentle laugh. “I cooked the gnocchi, but the sauce was all Leo. He’ll often leave different food with me—sauces, spices, ingredients—that I can freeze or store for a while.”
My heart squeezed at the thoughtful gesture.
“Okay, well, it’s not a problem. I’ll just, um, I’ll find a different—”
“I texted you his number. Go on and give him a call. I don’t think he should be working tonight.”
This was where my hunger and desperation kicked in.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll call him. Thanks so much, Celine.”
“Anytime, hon. Good luck.”
After hanging up, I’d called Colin. Maybe he’d be able to call Leo for me and get the information I needed. Except I got his voice mail followed by a text.
Colin: Out with the guys. Can’t talk.
Okay, then.
I opened my text thread with Celine and tapped on Leo’s contact info.
The phone rang two times before his deep voice filled the line. “This is Leo.”
“Hey, it’s Eliza,” I said, only to be met with silence. I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Um, Colin’s girlfriend?” I offered.
“I know who you are, Eliza.”
“Well, you didn’t say anything!”
“I was waiting for you to say something first. You’re the one calling me.”
I parted my lips to speak, but the background noise on Leo’s side got louder: mumbled voices, plates clattering plates, faint music. Celine said he wasn’t working, but maybe she’d gotten it wrong. “You’re at work? I shouldn’t be bothering you.”
“Eliza,” he said sternly, and my stomach flipped, which I tried to ignore. “You’re not bothering me.” The background noise got quieter, and I heard a door shut. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine!” Apart from the fact that my kitchen was an absolute mess, and I was about to lose my goddamn mind over dinner.
It looked like a tornado followed by a hurricane had blown through my apartment, and I dreaded cleaning it up—but I told myself it’d be worth it.
“I was just on the phone with your mom, because I’m trying to make the sausage gnocchi, which she said is your recipe.
She couldn’t find the instructions on how to finish the sauce.
” I chewed on my bottom lip. “She also said I should call you, because you likely weren’t working. ”
The words sounded so silly as I said them out loud. How would me trying to make this dish even compare to the way Leo made it? He was a trained chef!
“How far in the recipe are you?” he asked. He didn’t say anything about how it wouldn’t turn out the same or that I couldn’t do it or that he didn’t have time to walk me through how to finish.
I filled him in on what I’d done and where the recipe card left off.
“You’ll be done in no time,” he encouraged, and I let out a bleak laugh.
“It feels like I’ve been cooking forever. I hope it’ll be worth it.”
“It will be. It always is.”
I’d truly only been a few minutes away from finishing.
With Leo’s help, I’d poured the vodka into the sauce, letting it simmer and scraping caramelized bits from the bottom of the pan.
I stirred in the heavy cream, parmesan, and some water to ensure the sauce was smooth and creamy.
A minute or so later, I tossed the gnocchi into the sauce.
“Hmm…tastes like something’s missing,” I said after trying a small spoonful of sauce. While I’d followed the instructions, that burst of flavor was missing.
“Try adding more salt.”
“But it doesn’t taste like it needs to be saltier,” I said while reaching for the shaker.
“That’s only a part of what salt does,” Leo explained. “Salt helps enhance the flavor, too. It makes food taste more like itself and brings out those flavors you’re looking for.”
Huh, I didn’t know that.
“Add some, stir, and see if you need more.”
I followed his instructions and grabbed another taste.
“Oh my god,” I said as I pulled the spoon away from my lips.
“That did it! It tastes amazing,” I said in awe, not quite able to believe that I’d made this.
I’d spent most of college living off boxed macaroni and cheese, sandwiches, and frozen meals.
“Sometimes I know what I’m talking about. Rarely, but it happens.” I could hear the teasing in his tone.
I grinned. “Okay, so then, when I make my bowl, I’ll add the chopped basil and parmesan on top, and I’m done?”
“Yup and then you’re done.”
“Thanks so much for your help,” I said, a genuine smile on my face, even though he couldn’t see. I put the phone on speaker and set it on the counter, making my bowl while he stayed on the other line.
“Anytime, Eliza.”
“I’ve kept you long enough. I’ll let you go. Thanks again. Have a good rest of your night.”
“You, too. And send me a picture of your finished dish.”
“Are you sure? I might be giving you a run for your money.”
Leo’s deep chuckle filled the line. “I’m sure. Goodnight, Eliza.”
“Goodnight, Leo.”
I wasn’t sure what made me think of that memory today.
Maybe because it was another example of the contrast between Leo and Colin. Or because I hadn’t been able to shake my time with Leo on the rooftop a couple nights ago.
Or maybe because since I got into Lake Ridge today, I hadn’t been able to stop sneaking glances at Leo.
I leaned forward on the bar top, watching as he carried in crates of produce.
The sleeves of his chef’s coat were rolled up to his elbows, and he made easy conversation with the farmer who’d stopped by to deliver the food.
I should’ve stopped staring the third time Leo walked past, but there was a lot I should do. Like ignore my ex’s brother all together. I needed to create some distance between us, something I’d been horrible at during the two weeks he’d been here.
“You’re drooling.” A voice sounded near me.
I reached up to touch the corner of my mouth, but it was dry. Thankfully. I turned around to face Wes. “No, I’m not!”
The asshole wasn’t even looking at me. Wes scribbled something on his clipboard, likely doing weekly inventory.
His shoulders shook as he chuckled, clearly amused.
“My mistake. I thought you were distracted, considering you’ve been wiping that same spot on the bar for the last ten minutes. Maybe I’m just seeing things.”
“Maybe I’m just being thorough,” I defended, even though I’d been caught red-handed.
“Uh-huh…whatever you gotta tell yourself.” Wes smirked and capped his pen. He leaned against the bar, setting his clipboard down.
“I’m telling myself and you the truth.”
As if getting pestered by Wes wasn’t enough, my brother walked into Lake Ridge and waved at Leo before making his way over to Wes and me. Cooper was still in his park ranger uniform, likely coming straight from work. “What’re you two gossiping about?” he asked, pulling out a bar stool to sit.
“Eliza was staring at Leo,” Wes said at the same time I responded, “Nothing.”
I let out a deep sigh and tipped my head back, begging the universe for patience. If this was how my shift started, it would be a long one. And, admittedly, I knew I was a little…on edge. Having to stare at a tattooed chef after weeks without sex would do that to anyone—not just me.
Not that I wanted to have sex with Leo.
I wanted to have sex with anyone but Leo.
“I wasn’t staring.” I glared at Wes. “I was seeing if he needed help carrying any of the inventory in.”
“Why didn’t you ask, then?” Wes asked, looking far too amused. “With how many trips he had to make, I’m sure he would’ve appreciated a hand.”
“It was only, like, four trips! You could’ve helped him, too.”
“I was busy doing inventory.” He tapped a knuckle on the clipboard.