The Ingredients for Happiness

The knot in her stomach that had been there all morning had finally untangled and as they walked back to Amanda’s house, she felt a thrill of excitement for this new beginning. The past few months had been tough on her family, with the sudden passing of Grandpa. Louisa had opted to stay in Italy with Nanna and Sabrina was preparing to move back to Manchester after four years of living the high life in LA, now that San Francisco Beat had parted ways with their record label. Life had changed quite drastically for them all. But the decisions had been made and now they had to rise to the challenges they now faced.

With this thought, her excitement faded to fear and she gripped Dan’s hand a little tighter. He would be leaving tomorrow and that wasn’t quite the challenge she wanted to face, which was silly really. She and Dan had spent plenty of time apart over the years – months and months away from each other – and their friendship remained strong. A twinge of the hurt she had felt after Jason tried to shadow and dampen her good vibes. It felt different now. Before, she never cared about the tabloids, the girlfriends and the crazy life thrust into the hands of rock stars; now, the ever-present groupies and parties to attend made her insides squirm, but she was determined not to let those negative thoughts weigh her down. Dan had never given her any reason to worry. She was not about to let her mind play tricks on her. Dan was her best friend first and rock star second.

She wasn’t the jealous type, but whatever was causing her unease definitely felt like jealousy. Years of being relaxed with her ex-boyfriend Jason had only meant that he had cheated on her more times than she cared to remember, and she always forgave him; would Dan do the same? The idea of girls throwing themselves at him no longer made her want to roll her eyes and punch Dan in the arm in playful jest, but instead curl up into a ball and cry. But they were together now and Dan knew that. Dan had wanted that too. And he would be back soon. This jealousy was an imposter and had no place in her heart.

‘Should I be Team Cap or Team Iron Man?’ Dan piped up as they turned onto Amanda’s street. They had been walking in a comfortable silence hand in hand, though it hadn’t been all that silent in Amanda’s head.

‘Huh?’ said Amanda, glancing up at Dan. His wavy hair was getting caught in the breeze and falling in his face. She automatically reached up to brush it behind his ear. He caught her hand when she did so and kissed her palm, sending tingles through her entire body. A teasing smirk appeared on Dan’s handsome face. ‘There seems to be a civil war going on in that brain of yours, baby girl.’

Amanda laughed at Dan’s superhero reference. It was difficult to stay worried and anxious when looking into Dan’s rich brown eyes. They did something to her; they melted away her fears and replaced them with a sense of calm and contentment – as though his own demeanour transferred over to her when she needed it most.

‘No, I’m okay. I can’t believe how perfect the café is. I think Grandpa would have loved it. Thank you for staying with me and helping me look for a place,’ Amanda said, brushing the hand that Dan was still holding close to his lips, over Dan’s cheeks. He was supporting a five o’clock shadow; she enjoyed the feel of his stubble against her fingers and the softness of his skin. He looked edible in his chunky black knit cardigan, jeans and white tee. What was it with men and never getting cold? She herself was wearing her oversized pink teddy coat that kept in all the heat, over a grey woolly jumper, with a scarf for good measure.

‘Of course; I could never deny my best girl when she offers me a proposition,’ Dan replied, referring to New Year’s Eve when they were standing on her zia’s balcony overlooking the Amalfi Coast and she had told Dan that she would only be his ‘sexy’ Manchester tour guide if he helped her search for a café. He’d had the same confident glint in his eye back then at the word ‘proposition’ as he did now. ‘Speaking of which, I have a proposition for you,’ he added, letting go of her hands to allow her to rummage through her bag in search of her keys.

‘You do? I have a feeling this proposition is more suited to that dangerously sexy mind of yours,’ Amanda replied as she unlocked her front door. She was no longer battling with her insecurities. Instead she was just focused on Dan, the moment she was in and what he was going to say.

Dan laughed, a low laugh that made her stomach flip over as they entered the house.

‘I was going to suggest we spend the rest of the day baking together, but if you had other things in mind … I was just thinking rum baba.’ He gave her a sly grin, before kissing the base of her neck along her collarbone as she shimmied out of her coat.

Would she ever not be phased by that voice? Amanda playfully pushed him away.

‘Isn’t a proposition supposed to have something in it for both parties? I somehow only see that being beneficial to you and your budding appetite,’ Amanda said teasingly before shoving Dan towards the kitchen.

‘Argh, but you need practice for the café; I saw it on your list, and I am happy to be a guinea pig to make sure everything is up to standard.’ Amanda laughed as she walked behind him, watching him casually brush a hand through his wind-styled hair, which of course looked dreamy on him. Amanda wished the wind had that effect on her own locks. They entered the kitchen and she busied herself in the fridge, keeping Dan in her peripheral vision. It was hard to take her eyes off him. She watched as he took off his cardigan, his white tee taught against his muscles. He’d put on a few extra pounds over Christmas and while staying with her these past three weeks. It suited him – filling out his muscles, making his tall frame broader. She loved wrapping her arms around him.

Speaking of arms, she felt his thick biceps wrap around her shoulders as she collected the ingredients for rum baba. ‘You make a cute guinea pig,’ Amanda said, putting down a pot of cream and reaching up to grab his forearms. She felt safe snuggled up in Dan’s arms.

‘Speaking of lists and recipes, how do you know how much of each ingredient to use, my love? There are no measurements for this recipe,’ Dan whispered into her ear, peering over her shoulder at the tatty piece of paper Amanda had scrawled on. Amanda chuckled and squeezed his forearms. Then she shrugged, a smile spreading across her lips and goosebumps tickling her arms.

‘Erm, I don’t really know. I guess I just know. When I read it, I see Grandpa and I just do what he did.’ Her smile widened as her words made her think of him. Dan squeezed her back. ‘Your mind is my favourite,’ he said, lovingly, making Amanda’s grin reach her ears.

‘Let’s celebrate.’ She reached into the still-open fridge to get the red wine.

‘What? My making a cute guinea pig?’ Dan chuckled, making her shiver. Amanda rolled her eyes and wriggled out of his grasp to retrieve two wine glasses. She handed a glass to Dan – who nodded, watching her adoringly from under his long lashes – and filled up both of their glasses.

‘To Torta per Tutti,’ Dan said, raising his glass to hers. Amanda’s knees immediately buckled, and she went to sit down at the kitchen table, floored that Dan had remembered the name she and her grandpa had come up with for their dream café, years ago. She had only shared this with Dan on one occasion. Hearing him say it out loud made it more real. She wasn’t just doing this for her, she was doing it for Grandpa too. Dan took a step closer to her, so she had to look up and meet his gaze.

‘And to us,’ he added, clinking her glass. They each took a sip, before Dan set about getting the rest of the ingredients for the rum baba out of the fridge. The niggling insecurities she had about her being bad at relationships were the last thing on her mind. She felt every doubt she had ever had about life vanish as she watched him move confidently around her kitchen. If she thought Dan couldn’t get any sexier, she had been very wrong. She stared at him as he put on her apron, pursed his lips and creased his eyebrows in concentration while he read through an Italian recipe, and her heart exploded with happiness.

Their relationship had been going strong for four years. They had faced loss, fame and distance together. Dan and his forever chilled persona had found solutions to problems without drama; he centred Amanda, they knew each other inside out. Nothing could tear them apart.

Chapter 2 (#ulink_241b04bd-d837-5865-a389-2f7449d97fca)

Vanilla Tea Cupcake

Ingredients:

For the cake:

4oz sugar

4oz butter

All-purpose flour

1 tbsp vanilla – infused with a few drops of Earl Grey tea

2 eggs

1 tsp baking powder

1-2 tbsp milk

For the frosting:

Butter

Icing sugar

2 tbsp tea

1 tsp vanilla

What to do:

Cream butter and sugar together.

Add eggs slowly, then milk.

Combine baking powder and flour and sift into mixture.

Add tea and vanilla.

Stir until combined.

Scoop into cupcake liners and bake at 180 degrees for around 25 mins or until spaghetti comes out clean.

Beat butter and icing sugar until desired consistency and add tea and vanilla. (Doesn’t have to be super stiff, it gets too sweet like those American cakes with too much frosting. Keep it fluffy and buttery.)

Sabrina glanced around the overcrowded coffee shop. In every direction she looked there were people staring at laptops and phone screens; headphones bobbing along to music. Occasionally she had a rare glimpse of people communicating, looking at each other, fully engaged in conversation as they sipped on their vegan chai tea. She had loved LA for its vibrant culture and colourful mix of inhabitants. She didn’t regret her time here for a second but having spent Christmas in Italy with her family she knew going home was the right thing for her. She’d learnt so much during her time in LA, from both the highs and the lows. She had immersed herself in her work, given Lydia and Jones Records her all, but now it was time to really show the music industry what she was made of.

Since arriving back in LA after the New Year, her phone had been buzzing continuously. The news was out that San Francisco Beat were free agents and that Sabrina was no longer working for Jones Records either. Her first point of call had been to address the situation and so she had made a statement that she was still very much the manager for San Francisco Beat and that yes, they were on the market for a new record deal.

She sipped her Earl Grey, longing for an Italian espresso, but knowing that over Christmas she had been well and truly spoilt by the fresh Italian coffee her zias made and that here in LA, no matter what Italian brand they used, it just wouldn’t quite be the same. On the other hand, the Earl Grey did satisfy her needs and made her stomach bubble with excitement about getting back to Manchester. She eyed her list of emails, a swarm of potential record labels flooding her brain. When Levi and Dan had asked her to remain their manager she had been thrilled. She had leapt up and down, grateful that she still had a job and overwhelmed and touched that they believed in her. Of course she still felt all those things, but now there was a niggle of nerves partying in her stomach that she was having trouble evicting. This was a huge decision. In this business it was a trying task to stay true to who you were. Record labels could suck the soul right out of a band with the temptation of making millions and making you a star – after all, they knew exactly how to do that. But Sabrina was smart. San Francisco Beat were already a huge success across the USA and were making waves across the pond too, thanks to their last song ‘Need a Little You’ being popular with radio DJ’s. Sabrina had been able to converse with the band’s music publisher on a few occasions without Lydia breathing down her neck. She’d snuck in a few mentions as to what UK radio stations she believed would be a good fit for the band and her moments of bravery had paid off. Sabrina had done her utmost over the last three years to fight for the band and what they represented, despite Jones Records’ best attempts at getting them to strip down to their boxers and create their own perfume; that was wonderful for some acts, but it just wasn’t them. Being their manager, due to her big sister’s meddling, meant Sabrina had a lot of say in their careers. However, with her attachment to Jones Records and working so closely with Lydia as her assistant, Lydia had certainly made this hard for her.

So now she needed to find a label that would complement her vision and best suit the boys and their sound. Her palms were sweaty as she tapped away at her keyboard, opening proposals and reading through offers. They all sounded good, many highlighting the big clientele that already worked for them and discussing the fame and fortune they could deliver. Sabrina ‘umm’ed and ‘ahh’ed, nothing special leaping out at her. Yes, the boys wanted to be successful. Their lives had changed dramatically over the last three years. They were no longer playing dive bars and small clubs in San Francisco, working part-time jobs to get by; they were playing arenas across America and had all been able to buy houses and pay off their parents’ mortgages. For that they were incredibly grateful, but money did not drive them. Sabrina loved that about them. She kept them grounded and they kept her grounded in this crazy world of showbiz.