Mirepoix (A Recipe Of Love Book 1) Read Free

leggings, a black tank top, a pair of colorful low top canvas sneakers and a tote bag big enough to carry a small child. I have plenty of stuff inside said bag that can entertain me such as books, crocheting stuff and a notebook for any random ideas that need to be written down so they don’t float off. One day I vow I won’t let my emotions and curiosity get the best of me, then immediately get lost in thought trying to figure out if curiosity could be considered an emotion.
    I feel someone block the sun that was warming me into relaxation and open my eyes to the sight I knew would be waiting for me. Sure enough I looked up into Joe’s face with that one eyebrow arched disdainfully. One day I will wax that eyebrow off to teach it a lesson.
    “Do you think that curiosity would be considered an emotion or rather a state of being?” I blurt like I always do, I seem to forget social niceties constantly. Why say hello when I can launch what will hopefully be an entertaining philosophical discussion.
    “Well you do feel curiosity which would make it seem like an emotion but I can also feel cold which is a state of being, maybe it is the state of being as a result of the emotional desire for knowledge.”
    Struck by the fact that he didn’t simply indulge me or shrug off the question but put serious thought into it made a smile bloom across my face. I was so happy that I decide to ignore the fact that he was late. I despise lateness which is weird for someone who hates schedules and timelines as much as I do. For me it isn’t promptness that fuels it, it is the wasted time; thus the tote bag so if I am stuck somewhere killing time I can be productive while doing so. Glancing at my watch as I pick up my cooling espresso I see he was only 17 minutes late so I’ll forgive him this time, that eyebrow is still getting waxed though.
    “Would you like an espresso or coffee?” I gesture to the shop we’re sitting next to. “I know your restaurant would have closed early last night but don’t know if you normally sleep in on your day off.”
    “Thankfully I have a manager who takes the morning deliveries so I haven’t been up quite this early in a while. So an espresso would be great, I’ll be right back.” I stop him as he tries to stand up and go inside waving him back into his seat.
    “MIKEY! Hook me up with another shot!”
    I sit back in my chair and see he’s staring at me again, as are half the customers that haven’t witnessed the Frankie show in the past. The other half are regulars and are used to my shenanigans, I feel myself starting to freeze from the attention before getting distracted by Mikey. Mikey stomps out of the shop in all of his barrel chested glory, I have the stray thought that maybe if he didn’t resemble a stampeding bull so much I wouldn’t poke at him like I do. He does his best at looking down on me in an intimidating fashion but at only 5’6”, a scant 3 inches taller than me, it’s not very effective even if I’m sitting down. He grumbles at me in Italian, throws a few side eyed looks at Joe, then kisses my forehead while murmuring his goodbyes.
    “It’s a good thing I speak Italian fluently too or I might be jealous, even if he is old enough to be your father," Joe takes a sip out of the tiny cup that looks doll sized in his massive hands.
    “Grandfather, he was one of my Grandma’s beau's back in the day. Sorry about that, he refuses to speak to me in English. He’s worried I’ll forget my Italian if I don’t use it every day.”
    “And he’s apparently glad to see you in the sunlight since he was worried you had become a vampire. What was the bit about the gelato at the end?”
    “Old cranky pants said I still can’t get gelato or water ice for breakfast, even if I came in to see him while the sun was up, since Grandma would haunt him.” I pout. He has the best water ice in the whole city, I hadn’t even thought about asking for any but now that he brought it up I