Mistakenly Eaten

“Ah! The view is so pretty. Everything looks so beautiful.” The young blond chimed, looking ahead at the scenery in front of her. Her long hair fell over her bare back that was freshly tanned and glowed under the bright sun, as cool winds blew through her perfectly waved curls. She smiled, her plump lips stretching out ear to ear, resting right underneath her thin nose, that traveled all the way up to her crystal green eyes, that turned even lighter and clearer as the sharp sunrays reflected through her eyes, enumerating her beauty by many folds. She sighed, placing her elbow on the small round table in front of her and her chin over her palm, looking ahead at the beautiful scenic views of Gragnano. A small city, located in the south central state of Italy. The locals of Campania Region, always recommended visiting the beautiful lush green city, building up on dwindling peaky hill tops and years old trees, palmed out and bushed together, adding more to the beauty of the small city, that had huts for home and small cottages for residency and factories, with old roman tiles connected together, running through the slopes, where the local drove bicycles, tourists climbed up on foot and kids played football – or what Americans would call soccer; which was exactly what the blond Cheryl called, which earned a scoff from her boyfriend, Nicholas, who sat right in front of her, across the small table, holding out his hand and touching her cheek. His thin lips were beaming in to a bright smile, with his blue orbs sparkling like diamonds, as the light from Cheryl’s eyes reflected in to his. For him, the beauty of the city didn’t matter, even sitting over on the hill top restaurant, from where one could see the beauty of the small region, that was dubbed as the capital of the pasta world but most people didn’t even know that. The only came there to enjoy the view. But Cheryl was there to enjoy both the food and the view. Nicholas didn’t care, where his girlfriend took him, all he cared enough was to be with his girlfriend. He would do anything for the girl that he loved so much. She was perfect for him in every sense. Cheryl smiled, shifting her gaze from the beautiful city view to the handsome view in front of her, that she proudly called her boyfriend. His chiseled jawline, that she had asked him to keep shaved, since she liked him more like that, his think Greek nose, his bulky body that tightly hugged that t shirt that he wore and clung on for dear life. His neatly trimmed hair rested on his head, gelled back in to a beautiful puff, with only a strand or two falling over on his forehead. There was a glow in his eyes and a spark in his smile, that a sensible person could tell by just one look, that it was the look of love. Cheryl admired the man that he was and loved the fact that he complimented her in every matter. In terms of education, he went to Harvard and she was a Stanford graduate herself. In terms of looks, she was a five foot seven woman, with a perfect thirty four C breast size and a perfect peachy ass that she had built with years of work out and of course, some slight surgeries and he was a six foot two tall and broad guy. In terms of money, her father ran three biggest oil refineries in all over America and Nicholas, was the CEO and heir of the Santiago Enterprises, that ran the biggest and most luxurious hotel chains in the world, along with other businesses. A smart woman and hot woman, with an intelligent hardworking and handsome man. People envied their perfect couple. Whoever looked at them, felt jealous and obviously wished to find someone in their life that complimented them in such a beautiful way. “I love you!” Nicholas whispered at Cheryl, who nodded back and batted her eyelashes, that were some elegant extensions that she had gotten before she got on her trip with Nicholas. “I love you too! This is the best birthday gift ever. Thank you for bringing me to Italy for my birthday. I still don’t know, how did you find out that I wanted to come to Gragnano for my birthday?” “I saw that article in your phone that you were reading three months back.” Cheryl held her chest in utter awe, simply amazed at how much attentive and caring her boyfriend was. She surely was a lucky girl to have landed a man like that and Nicholas also considered himself utterly grateful that his fate worked out and Cheryl and him ended up together. She was perfect for him in every sense. In style, in aesthetics, in taste and in bed, she was mesmerizing. Nicholas had bedded many women but the way Cheryl worked her way around the sheets and played tricks that even Nick didn’t know about, it blew his mind away. “Oh my God! You really love me, don’t you?” she asked Nick, who simply smiled and nodded his head. “Oh God! Such a beautiful couple.” Said one of the east Asian tourist, who sat diagonal to the couple and a few seats behind. She clicked the picture of the view and also captured some of the two love birds. Cheryl heard her words and felt nothing but sheer pride. She loved receiving compliments and she loved it even more when people envied her for being with Nicholas. “Are you ready to order?” a short heighted waiter appeared in front of them, holding out his notepad in his hands and offering to take the couple’s order. His accent thick and dripping through his Italian ancestry but he still continued to speak English, as it was the only reason he got hired in that restaurant at the first place. “Yes, one grilled artichoke pizza for me and one…” Nicholas looked at Cheryl, asking her to speak up for her order and she simply shrugged. “I would just have the Caesar salad.” The waiter noted down and nodded, “Would you like anything else?” “Just water?” Nicholas asked Cheryl, knowing that she only preferred water with her food and she nodded, happy that her boyfriend always made sure to remember little details about her. “That would be all.” The waiter bowed in obedience and moved away from the couple, walking right behind them and bowing to the old man, sitting on the single table, placed by the edge of the restaurant that was located and constructed at the very hill top. People were coming in to the restaurant all tired and huffed up, as they had to walk a mile up the hill, through the steep of the staircase, built up towards the buildings situated up on the hilltop along with that very restaurant, that was constructed slightly inclined, giving the essence that it was constructed some good ages ago but was still sparkling and bustling with crowd, given to its name. “Sir, what shall I get you?” asked the waiter from the old man, who was going through some sort of table like form on his iPad. The old man, fixated his reading glasses once, he heard the waiter and looked up the short heighted and lean guy’s attire. His red polo shirt complimented his black jeans and the white apron that he had wrapped around his waist, with pens and bills hanging down from it, added more to the guy’s neat appearance. “Hmm, I will have the Gragnano Pasta.” The old man ordered and went back to his iPad, where he read through the table opened in front of him. “Anything else?” requested the waiter and the old man shrugged. “Bring your best wine as well.” He simply looked board and unbothered, as he once again went through the form opened up in front of him. Name Althea Ferrara Occupation Server / Part time Chef at La Pastalia – Gragnano, Campania, Italy. Personal Information Female, Twenty Seven. Education High School Graduate from Gragnano Public School Personal Profile I am a high school graduate, working and practicing privately in the food industry for the past ten years. I did not get to attend any chef school due to personal reasons but my work, ethics and sensory functions in food processing, production, preparation and finishing, are all at par. I am mentally, physically and skillfully ready to compete in any cooking competition. I have been participating in the Gragnano eatery festival and have been winning first place. My Pasta is quite infamous and renowned in the entire city. I cook secretly at La Pastalia and wait for that day when one of the secret hunters’ would come, try my pasta and choose me right away to compete in the secret chef hunters’ society. As the old man read through the given piece of information, the waiter finally collected the two orders on his notepad, noticing down the numbers of the table over each order. But little did he know that the number of the table on which the old man sat was fifteen and the one over which Nicholas and Cheryl were seated, was fourteen but being a newbie at the place, who was still trying to adjust and not knowing the exact numbers of the table, the waiter ended up, placing fifteen on Nicholas and Cheryl’s table and wrote down fourteen on the old man’s order. As he walked up towards the kitchen to give away the order, Nicholas and Cheryl remained busy, going through their pictures that they had clicked, deciding which one they would post on i********: and the old man behind them, was simply bored of reading the profile that was given to him. He sighed, looking up at the entrance of the restaurant, that was decorated with real leaves and beautiful sparkling flowers, with a cursive cutout board displayed right in top of entrance arch. ‘La Pastalia!’ He shook his head, as his phone began ringing inside his pocket and he picked it out, answering it once he saw the caller ID. “Yes, I am at the stupid place in Gragnano.” He told someone over the phone and replied once the person asked him something, “Well, I don’t care! The profile is boring and I am only following the protocol. If the food is good, I will forward the profile. But we should really focus on the girl from New York that Sandy forwarded the profile of. I’ve heard her father’s got some money and he could actually fund the next competition. We really need some good funders and investors this time, if we want to compete with master chef, or else we will stay like a bunch of ‘no knowns’ for the of our stupid remaining lives.” As the man complained about their competition not being a big shot, he remained oblivious of how much a single girl loved and adored that very competition. Her worried eyes glued at the waiter, who walked in to the kitchen, where she stood wearing a lose white sun dress, with a dirt smitten apron tied around her waist. Her dark thick hair, pulled up in a bun, with strands running loose all over her face and her neck. She tried to move her thick knitted eyebrows and place them more stealthily over her head but she couldn’t, because the inside of the restaurant wasn’t the only place that she had to keep an eye on. She turned her neck around and stretched out a look at the very far end of the closed kitchen, where the back exit of the restaurant was, which was used by the staff only. Her long legs flashed out of her thin and short dress, whilst her worn out pumps rested around her feet, that she tapped loosely and anxiously over on the wet kitchen floor. She sighed in exasperation, getting slightly annoyed by the waiter, who took quite a time in coming inside the kitchen and collecting another order on his way. But once he did, she immediately snatched the order pad away from him and opened up the order for table fifteen. Disappointment contained her face. Her rosy lips and cheeks that were rushed with blood, feeling excitement and anxiety pumping through her system all together, suddenly turned slightly pale, with her plump lips turning down in to a frown. “Are you sure table fifteen ordered a pizza?” she asked, her voice turning low. The spark and excitement that was present in her clear hazel eyes vanished and the glow of joy that had appeared on her friskily tanned skin, also disappeared, making her appear paler than she had ever looked. Her thin, slightly curved ahead nose became sleek with dismay as she scrunched her button nose, whilst her round cheeks, that rested over her perfect cut jawline, also turned yellow.   “Yes!” the waiter nodded, oblivious to why she was losing her characteristic spark that he had just witnessed in her. She flipped the page on the order pad and sighed in disappointment to see that it was table fifteen instead that had ordered the Gragnano Pasta. She looked out of the kitchen window to confirm appearances and see if there could be any chance of the people at that table to be, who she wished them to be but seeing a young and beautiful couple engrossed in their personal conversation, made her only wonder if she was blind hoping and actually losing her mind, wishing that young couple to be part of the society that she was aiming to get in to. She shook her head, looking at the waiter, who stood at a distance from her, trying his very best to hide his infatuation for her, that he had developed instantly, ever since the day he had joined the restaurant as a fellow server. “Well, I guess I’ll just make this one pasta and hope and pray just for some miracle.” She smiled sadly, getting to her unit where the other chefs also worked. They all simply let her do her work and as she cut the vegetables, grated the cheese and mixed the sauces on the pan, creating simple and pure magic, everyone in the restaurant simply smiled and adored the young woman. Her cylindrical, slim and long arms shined underneath the sunlight that fell through the glass roof and right over and on to her body. She seemed to be in a completely different and an utterly out worldly state, as she cooked and worked on the kitchen unit. She glowed differently and radiated more brightly, when she worked in a stove and prepared simply and pure magic. She prepared a dish, slipping the pasta smoothly on to the deep plate and topped it with some more parmesan and topping it with a leaf of coriander to add more color to blazing beige sauce and the floating pasta. Very sleekly, she cut the pieces of the chicken steak in elongated form that she had garnished and cooked and placed them over on the bowl of pasta, making them skim around in a semi circular state. She smiled to herself, proud of her creation and called on another serve, who jumped ahead and grabbed that plate. “Table fourteen.” She told another waiter, who picked up the plate and walked up towards the designated table. That waiter was well aware, which table was table fourteen and which was fifteen. Whilst the table fifteen, that belonged to the old man, was served pizza and a salad by another waiter, he found a reason to encircle and cut off the application that he wasn’t even interested to begin with. As the old man left, the young server, placed the bowl of pasta in front of Nicholas and Cheryl, who both looked up at the waiter in confusion. “This is not our order.” Nicholas complained, worried that the faulty order might upset his girlfriend but before the waiter could’ve said anything a small moaning sound echoed, making Nicholas look in front of him and watched as Cheryl dug in to her pasta and ate it with complete amusement, closing her eyes and simply living for the taste that she felt exploding inside her mouth. Nicholas looked at Cheryl in complete bewilderment, raising an eyebrow up at her. It was obviously a surprise for him to watch as she ate in utter and sheer joy. “But I thought you wanted the salad?” he asked and laughed a bit, slightly embarrassed at her actions. “I am sorry but it looked so delicious.” She pouted. “You have to try it.” She prepared a bite and held it in front of Nicholas, who shook his head. “It could be someone else’s order.” He told her and looked up at the waiter, who scratched his back. “What was your order again?” he asked Nicholas. “Pizza and salad.” He informed and the waiter looked up at the now empty table, where the piping hot pizza was turning cold. The waiter sighed in exhaustion, “I am sorry, looks like the waiter who took your order exchanged your table numbers. I will get you, your pizza and salad.” He said, moving towards the said table, understanding that the customer who was there and had probably ordered the pasta, already left. “The pasta?” inquired Nicholas, wondering if they would want it back and also worried that they might take it away from his girlfriend, who continued munching over the dish, that tasted exceptional on her taste buds. “It’s fine! seems like the one who ordered the pasta is already gone! Consider this on the house.” The waiter nodded with a smile and placed the pizza and the salad on the table but Cheryl was gone and done with the thought of having a salad, she was simply engrossed in the pasta in front of her. “Oh my God! Nick! You have to try this pasta.” She told him, pushing her fork full of pasta towards him. He took a bite and just as the taste hit his mouth, he moaned slightly, enjoying the blissful taste that went in to his mouth. He closed his eyes, feeling the perfect balance of spice, sour, salty and a slight stench of sweet coming in from the bite in his mouth. His eyes shot open at once, he realized how perfectly balanced all the tastes were, along with how much the chicken was cooked to perfection. “This is amazing!” he appreciated and at the very same time, Cheryl pulled the dish of pasta away from him and towards her side. “Yeah! Too bad, you aren’t getting anymore.” “What?” “Sorry, order yours, this one is mine.” She chimed, shaking her shoulders and Nicholas shook his head, raising his hands up in the air and calling for a waiter and ordering another plate of that pasta. But the one that came in for him, took about ten minutes and what was even more disappointing then the wait that Nicholas had to go through was that it didn’t even taste the same. “It’s not the same.” He complained with a disappointed tone and Cheryl simply shrugged. “Too bad! Mine was great.” Nicholas simply smiled, happy to see how much happy Cheryl was. It was just a pasta, for her, he was willing to sacrifice a lot and that pasta’s sacrificial was a testimony for him and also a signal for him to do what he had been thinking about for the past three months. There was always some sort of hesitation that was holding Nicholas back, making him wonder if he and Cheryl were ready for that next step. They had been dating for over a year by that point and when he had thought about bringing her to Gragnano, he only thought whether it was the right time, the right moment or even the right thing to do. He didn’t want to rush in to things but he was turning thirty six soon and sometimes, things weren’t just about the right time, it was about making the time right, if you are with the right person. With that thought glided in his mind and the fact that he had realized that Cheryl was the one for him, since he was willing to sacrifice anything for her, he placed his hand inside his pant’s front pocket. Bringing out a velvet box, he opened it up, keeping it down and under the table. He slightly looked up and noticed that Cheryl was completely engrossed in her food, having no care about what was going on in the world around her. Holding back his smile, he pulled the large diamond ring out of the box and placed the box aisde, getting up from his seat and walking towards Cheryl’s chair. He moved her chair, in order to face him, finally making her break her stare away from her plate. She looked up at him with surprise, her mouth still full of pasta and everyone in the restaurant turned around their eyes towards the dashing couple, wondering what they were up to. Going down on his knee, Nicholas pulled the ring out in front of Cheryl, making her eyes go wide and her mouth hang open in sheer and utter surprise. “Will you marry me?” he asked, his eyes full of hope and joy and without giving it a second thought, Cheryl nodded her head in excitement, shrieking out loud in excitement. She moved her hand ahead and Nicholas placed the ring on her finger. The entire restaurant clapped in sheer joy, including the pitiful young woman, who had made the pasta, that had led to the beautiful proposal. She clapped her hands with joy, wearing a black apron around her waist, denoting the fact that she was actually a mere waitress, who was taking her chances with fate and had thought that the old man who had come in earlier might be there as a secret recruiter, in the awe to try her pasta in secrecy but she was simply disappointed but didn’t lose her hope and was determined to continue cooking in secret, until the day she would finally get recruited. Another fellow waiter came in and handed her over her badge that read her name. She smiled and thanked him, as everyone in the restaurant continued clapping for the couple but she simply began collecting plates off the empty tables, once she placed her name tag over her dress, that read her name in a beautiful cursive font. ‘Althea Ferrara’ ------------------------------------                    Yes! Finally we have Nicholas's story. It took me a while but I finally found a way around for our beloved character Nicholas's story. It is time for you guys to witness his love story and find out how he ended up finding love for his own self. Hope you guys would enjoy this one :D Thank you for always reading and supporting my work <3