Love Consequences (Season 2 of Nata & Phillip's Romance)

3: Fun? Fun.

Nata

I dig my heels as Phillip drags me through the back door of this Italian pizzeria that you have to reserve table a month in advance. Even for lunch. Two Michelin stars. Two! The main hall is empty of patrons, but the staff is busy setting up lunch in the front room.

"They're not open yet," I whisper to Phillip for the tenth time.

I glance around at upturned tables and fleeting staff. Kate took me here last year for my birthday. I know what this place looks and sounds like when the customers are here.

"They aren't open," Phillip lowers his gaze to mine, "for public."

"I am public." I nervously bite my lip.

"I'm a part-owner." He grasps my hand and leads me to the bar that takes up an entire wall on the left. "So definitely not public."

The anxious feeling of being an intruder flips to an even more anxious one of learning Phillip owns this place. Two Michelin stars is like winning a Copley medal. My legs refuse to comply with the straightforward walk to the counter.

A blonde donning a red apron that has TLDC in white embroidered on her chest bursts into a smile when she sees Phillip. "Benvenuto a Te la Diamo Calda, signore Phillip." She watches me. "And who's this beautiful signorina?"

Even though I speak Spanish and not Italian, I know she's being extra nice, because I aged out of the signorina bracket a while ago.

"Martina,"—Phillip throws his arm over my shoulder—"this is Natalia. And we are ready to learn."

"I'm ready to teach." She opens the flip up portion of the counter and waves us behind.

"What?" I glance up at Phillip. "Here?" When he said a latte art class was on the agenda for today, I imagined a lesson at a culinary school or a rec center with other people in a commercial kitchen. I should've known. If there's a private version of a thing, leave it to Phillip to go the private route.

"Martina agreed to spend her morning with us, while they are closed. According to Zagat, this is the best place to have a real cup of Italian coffee and enjoy the latte art at the same time."

"You flatter me." Martina touches her cheeks to Phillip's in two air kisses and does the same with mine. "Let's start with testing your current skills." She ushers us to the narrow area that houses the biggest La Marzocco espresso machine I've ever seen in person. "My plan is to get us through Cappuccino Chiaro which has more hot milk and less foam, Cappuccino Secco made with just frothed milk, and Cappuccino Scuro which has less milk and more coffee than the others."

With all my love of coffee, I've never heard about those options. To me a cappuccino is two shots of espresso, a splash of milk and a cute foam hat to top it off. I stare at the chrome machine with four espresso levers in the middle and a steamer nozzle on each side.

I want to both hug the machine and Phillip. I also want to run and hide in a bathroom where I could squeal and jump around to rid myself of the excess excitement. No grown ass woman should be this excited over learning how to make coffee art. At a Michelin star restaurant. From a professional who probably won awards for this stuff. Gawd, this shouldn't make me this happy. This might just be the best surprise I've ever gotten. And I'm not a fan of any surprises.

"Who wants to go first?" asks Martina.

"Do we get bonus points for going first?" Phillip asks.

"This is not a competition," she says, setting her hands on her hips.

"But it could be." Phillip gives her a wide grin no one can resist. "Nata would love a competition, right babe?" He kisses my temple.

Phillip's innocent kisses haven't gone unnoticed, even though I know they're pretend. My heart pinches. Should I be madder at babe or him downplaying my coffee skills?