defeated. Grandpa would be having none of this. If he was here, he would be busy bustling around, making sure everything was done exactly the way he wanted, even if that meant doing it himself. Nothing would interrupt his vision, Amanda thought. With opening day looming in a little over two weeks, she could simply not afford to be sitting on a dirty floor when there was food to be ordered, staff to hire and ‘Electricity for Dummies’ to purchase. By the end of the day she would know how to rewire a light fixture; just because she was a chef, didn’t mean she could not or should not teach herself a bit of electrical DIY. Knowledge was power, her Grandpa would say, and she wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way of whipping up plates upon plates of rich sea salt focaccia to get the neighbours talking.
She jumped up and headed to the door.
*
‘How’s the café coming along?’ Amanda’s face beamed as Nikki’s voice came down the line sounding cheerful. It helped to keep Amanda’s spirits high – either that or she had inhaled more paint fumes than one should. At this point she couldn’t be quite sure, she had been painting all afternoon, having dared to roll up the blinds and let the sunlight illuminate the café. She didn’t quite have Louisa’s creative streak or flare for design, so she had prayed to the painting gods that the walls would not be a complete tragedy when she was done.
But at least the paint was pretty, Amanda thought to herself, as she gazed at the white walls that glittered with gold specs in the flickers of the fading sunlight. She considered Nikki’s question. It felt good to hear Nikki’s voice. Amanda had met Nikki in San Francisco; she had been the one to officially introduce Dan to Amanda and the one to take Amanda under her wing during her time there. They had kept in touch over the years and Amanda hoped to visit her again one day. She had loved San Francisco and Nikki’s feisty attitude, big heart and love of cooking.
‘Oh Nikki, I know it’s come a long way since we started the whole process a few weeks ago; to think we have floors and furniture, a kitted-out kitchen and no holes in the walls now! But I’ll be totally and completely not a monster anymore if we can just get this electricity sorted,’ Amanda said, with a squint of her eyes as she wiped at her brow. She hadn’t meant to be naïve, but she hadn’t accounted for the hiccups. Amanda often saw the big picture and that big picture ninety-nine per cent of the time revolved around the food; thinking about the recipes, when could she go buy the food, when she could start cooking the food, when she could start eating the food and when she could start serving the food. Stopping the process to take pictures or deal with shoddy painters and unequipped electricians was not part of her game plan.
‘I get it hon,’ Nikki started, ‘I’m insanely proud of you, you know,’ she finished with a thoughtful sigh. Amanda plonked herself down on the floor, for fear of leaning on anything and breaking it or smudging it. ‘Thanks Nikki,’ she whispered, feeling grateful to have Nikki on the line. She missed her terribly.
‘How are things over there? How’s the café doing?’ Amanda asked. She thought about Nikki standing behind the counter at Bruno’s, the café that her dad owned and that had been in her family for generations. Amanda’s mind flashed back to the day she first laid eyes on her. Nikki was standing behind the very same counter she was right now at the other end of the phone, with her gorgeous mauve lips, perfect eyebrows and a welcoming beam, and Amanda’s world was forever changed. Nikki became an instant best friend, with their matching passionate attitudes and love of early mornings in the kitchen. She introduced Amanda to all the best food spots Frisco had to offer, allowed her to help at Bruno’s and bake alongside her in their famous kitchen. Amanda had to admit that Nikki got the most brownie points for having introduced her to Dan. Thank you Nikki. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Amanda’s brain sung to itself in a quiet tune. Amanda couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips and reached her eyes when she thought about meeting Dan.
Dan had been playing in Nikki’s café that day, his voice having stopped Amanda in her tracks when she walked into Bruno’s. When he had taken a break from his set, he had made his way over to the counter and after overhearing Amanda rave about the hot chocolate Nikki had served up for her, Dan had requested one of the same. He had then proceeded to talk to Amanda and the moment he did so there had been an invisible string that tied itself around each of their hearts, deeming them inseparable. Granted, him being from San Francisco and Amanda from Manchester, they had of course been physically separated over the years, but that hadn’t stopped them talking on the phone every single day thereafter; bar a couple of months last year when she broke that record when trying to understand her feelings for him. She had eventually figured out those feelings and now her relationship with Dan was more than she ever could have dreamed. Nikki’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
‘Everything’s great thanks, babe. Busy as ever and four years later, your Biscoff cupcakes are still flying off the counter. I still get people asking about you. They want to know where our boy has got to, too,’ Nikki said, a hint of mischief in her tone. ‘Speaking of which, are you keeping him out of trouble?’
Brushing her forefinger over the layer of dust that covered the floor, Amanda hadn’t realized she had absentmindedly been drawing hearts as Nikki spoke. She cleared her throat.
‘He’s great …’ Amanda’s voice sounded wistful; it often did this where Dan was concerned. It was never intended, but without warning her independent bravado turned to mush while her heart melted at his name. It was worse when she missed him too. No matter how hard she fought it, she pined for him when he was away. She was missing a piece of herself and had to keep her mind active and focused, so it didn’t drift off, always thinking and searching for its missing piece. It hadn’t helped that since he went back to LA, they hadn’t been able to speak much. She understood that being free agents meant a lot of work and pressure for the boys, though it was odd for Dan not to reply to messages within ten minutes or for them not to catch up on the phone before bed. She tried to put a stop to her worries and getting the café up and running had been a wonderful, if not stressful, distraction. She didn’t want to burden Nikki with her unwarranted thoughts. She didn’t want to sound ungrateful. Dan had spent Christmas with her, and they had enjoyed an amazing few weeks here in Manchester together, but she knew he would have to get back to work and that things would be extra busy with San Francisco Beat as they prepared to sign a new record deal. Her brain needed to cut him some slack. Thankfully Nikki pulled her out of her thoughts.
‘All this time, I still can’t believe it. You do know I called it that day in the kitchen? You do remember, don’t you? I think your exact words were ‘ewww’,’ Nikki said. Her attempt at a British ‘ewww’ and the memory itself caused them both to howl with laughter. Amanda had indeed said ‘ewww’ when Nikki suggested her and Dan being something more than just friends.
‘Don’t you start!’ Amanda managed through chuckles. ‘I get told “we told you so” at least twice a day from my sisters, I don’t want to hear it from you too,’ she finished, mock-serious.
At that moment there was a loud bang on the door that scared the life out of Amanda. She jumped and very nearly sent her phone flying across the room. She shot to her feet and spun round, squinting to try and make out the figure behind the blinds. It was 5 p.m. – who could be knocking at 5 p.m.?
‘I bloody hope that’s the electrician,’ she said, trepidation in her voice as she tip-toed ever so carefully to the door. It had been a few days now since any reporters had come knocking, but the week that followed her and Dan’s initial visit saw paparazzi hovering nearby, some even knocking on her door and bombarding her with questions. Amanda had kindly sent them away. She hadn’t wanted people to see inside her café. The pressure of making everything perfect was enough without the hassle of flash photography and nosey parkers, and she could do without the likes of her old work partner, Jeff, knowing the ins and outs of what she was up to. He had already tried to sabotage her once before.
‘I’ll stay with you until you see who it is, hon,’ Nikki said gently.
Amanda rubbed at a smudge on the glass before she heard her dad’s voice chatting with what could only be an electrician – if his bold red van that had ‘Frank’s Electrical’ scrawled across the side, was anything to go