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“You and Eddie?” Rachelle asked, her voice very small.
“What are you talking about?” Diana asked. “Who is Eddie, again?”
Diana’s tone was dark. Rachelle loosened her shoulders, trying to tell herself this was proof of Diana’s honesty.
But could she really trust Diana? Could she trust anyone in this media circus?
“Listen,” Diana said, “whatever story they’re building is just for audiences. It’s for numbers. Just let them do whatever they need to do. Your job is to keep your head down and cook. I need that from you. Okay?”
Tears ran down Rachelle’s cheeks. “Okay.”
“You can’t fight them,” Diana noted. “They’re too powerful.”
Rachelle made a fist and hit herself gently on the thigh. She was so frustrated, so lost. The audience's attention had lit a fire beneath her. She didn’t want to be the butt of anyone’s joke. She wanted Eddie to love her. She wanted to be perfect.
“You have to be strong,” Diana urged. “Do you understand me?”
Rachelle furrowed her brow. “Yes,” she said. It was one of the biggest lies she’d ever told.
Chapter Ten
Summer 2004
It shouldn’t have been a surprise to see Ryan March at the morning market the following week. Diana watched him at a distance, gripping her cart of groceries with white knuckles. He bartered with the vendor to the best of his ability until the vendor cackled and turned his back to Ryan, dismissing him. Diana felt a pang of sympathy for Ryan. His face was drawn. As he turned back, giving up, his eyes darted across the crowd and pegged Diana. Immediately, his face illuminated. The smile was only for her.
Nobody had ever been so pleased to see Diana in her life.
As Ryan made his way through the crowd, Diana pleaded with her feet to get going. She had four more ingredients to pick up, and Arturo expected her back in the kitchen shortly. But something about Ryan’s expression kept her glued to the tiled ground beneath her. He was far too handsome for his own good.
“Hey!” Ryan reached her, beaming. “It’s you!”
Diana tucked her hair behind her ear. “How’s it going?”
Ryan waved his hand. “My Italian is twice as good as it was last week, but they’re still laughing in my face.”
“They like to do that.”
“Not to you,” Ryan said.
Diana’s heart swelled.
“By the way, I figured out who you are,” Ryan declared, his eyes twinkling. “You’re Diana. We went to school together.”
Diana had never heard her name sound so beautiful. She tried to keep her face passive. “And you’re Ryan March.”
“So you do know me.” A smile crept across his face.
Diana shrugged.
A vendor burst between them, muttering angrily about “americanos.” Diana stifled a laugh.
“They really hate us here, don’t they?” Ryan said.
“No. They’re just busy. And they’re in the food industry. You must know that anger is our greatest resource,” Diana offered.
Ryan laughed. “Truer words have never been spoken.”
They held one another’s gaze for a moment. Diana’s chest fluttered.
