Mirepoix (A Recipe Of Love Book 1) Read Free Page A

can’t stop. I think it should count if I get a fruit flavored one. 
    “I hadn’t realized she had passed, I’m sorry.” Lowering his cup he pats my hand in a conciliatory fashion. I need him to go back to mocking or angry, I don’t want to see the more humane side of him or the thoughtful philosophical side. I finally glance at his clothes hoping he’s wearing something I can use to shove any positive feelings back into a box deep inside me. Today he’s wearing a faded gray shirt that looks like it has been washed a million times, I want to rub against that shirt like a cat. A pair of dark jeans hug his legs and lead to a pair of motorcycle boots. I feel my eyebrows draw together a line of confusion forming between them. This outfit matches the tattoos and hair better but are nearly opposite the outfit he wore to see me. Will the real Joseph Moretti please stand up?
    “It’s my day off. I get to wear what I want and be myself on my day off.” He must have noticed where my attention chose to focus.
    “So you can’t be yourself when you’re working? It’s your restaurant. I would think that would be the most you place you could be.”
    “No, I need to present myself a certain way according to my manager. She says I need to look professional and not like a street thug.”
    “Your manager sounds like a big old bag of stupid. Luckily you’re the one who has to deal with her and not me as I have a teeny tiny problem with authority and conformity.  Are you done with the coffee? I don’t like sitting still long.” I grab my bag as I’m saying this giving him little choice but to swallow the last bit.
    “Okay so what are we doing here since I highly doubt it was just to grab a cup of espresso, no matter how great it was?” He questions as he stands and holds a hand out to help me up. I don’t think he’s even aware of his actions, simply a gentlemanly action he was raised doing.
    “That’s easy. We’re doing my weekly grocery shopping.”
     
    “We’re going grocery shopping?” He asks in disbelief.
    “Yep. I need to get my fresh produce and some herbs. I normally do it on Sundays but I know that the only day you’re closed is Mondays. You’re lucky I was willing to wait, since it means I have to miss out on my favorite bacon since the meat shop that carries it is closed on Mondays too.”
    “So watching you pick out apples is going to make me a better cook?”
    “No, meeting the shop owners, being willing to try new suppliers for different staple ingredients will make you a better cook. Also I think you need some spontaneity in your life.”
    “Grocery shopping is spontaneous?”
    “It is with me! I don’t have a list. I don’t even know what I want to make for dinner tonight. I’ll see what jumps out at me and yells ‘make me’ and base the meal around it. It could be the perfect cut of meat, it might be an amazing cheese, it could even be some ripe juicy apples. Oh look the cheese shop is open already! Let’s go see what they brought up from the caves today!”
    “Caves?” I hear from behind me as I rush into the shop, mind consumed with the delicious cheeses I’m going to be busy sampling shortly!
     
    I’m currently crouched down staring in the meat case. My eyes are probably the size of saucers and I look like a little kid at a bakery eying cupcakes. I can’t help myself though, the butcher just got done cutting gorgeous thick ribeyes. The marbling looks amazing and I know this is what I will be having for dinner. I have some herb butter in my freezer I made last weekend and I can get some potatoes down the street the size of a  football that will bake to perfection. Throw in whatever vegetable looks good when I’m getting the potatoes and it will be a simple delicious dinner. I glance over my shoulder and see Joe talking to the butcher.
    He looked sceptical when I dragged him into the cheese shop, but after sampling the great cheeses brought up that morning from the cave, as