Luca
The secret to the perfect Alfredo sauce is slow heat.
The roux can easily burn if the heat is too high.
Worse than that, it will get gummy. Of course, the type of cheese you use matters too.
A truly perfect Alfredo roux is made up of butter, heavy cream, garlic, and, of course, Parmesan.
Nutty. Creamy. Delicious. Grated, not shredded.
Combined and stirred slowly over low heat.
But isn’t that how most perfect things are curated? Slow burn?
That’s what Olivia and I have. It’s why things have been amazing.
And yet…
Sadie’s words keep replaying in my head. Not that I believe her over Olivia. But still. I can’t stop wondering about the podcast. About what she talks about.
I have everything ready to start cooking. And Olivia will be here in less than an hour. But I’m curious. And if there really is nothing to hide…then there is no harm in listening to her podcast. After all…it is her life's work. And I should take an interest in her life's work.
I pull the podcast up on my phone, skimming through the different series. She really has covered it all, everything from red flags to ghosts to how to meet someone in public without going to a bar or gym.
But I don’t care about any of that. I care about her recent series. About the catfishing.
About me…
I don’t want to believe it. And my hope is that I won’t have to. So I click on episode one and start listening. At first, it’s funny. Endearing almost. Witty for sure. It’s Olivia at her best. But then…there’s a plot twist.
My voice. A phone call to her from me. On the air. And that’s when my smirk flips upside down and my jaw tightens.
I keep listening to another episode until the most recent episode starts to play; I shut my laptop.
“Luca?”
Olivia’s voice carries through the foyer, and I hear the door close behind her.
“Anyone home? I brought wine,” she says.
I step out into the kitchen as Olivia sets a bag down on the counter with a smile. A smile that is so beautiful and so suddenly foreign that it’s ripping me apart.
“I didn’t know if you needed me to bring anything, but I thought I’d pick up some Chardonnay anyway. I also grabbed some fresh bread and oil and herbs,” she smiles. But then it falters a little. “Is everything okay?”
I study her for a moment before speaking. And when I do, my heart nearly splits in two before closing back up again, tighter than it’s ever been.
“You catfished me,” I say.
The shock, dread, and wide eyes on her face tell me everything I need to know.