Free Margherita's Notebook by Elisabetta Flumeri, Gabriella Giacometti Page A

I was told that this employment agency is the only one in the area that comes close to the standards we demand.”
    Matteo observed the blond woman sitting in front of him as she rattled off these words. Dark gray suit, white blouse, pearl necklace, designer handbag. Perhaps a bit overdressed for an early summer day in a city like Grosseto, where the thermometer could easily hit the nineties. She was a classic example of those women who lived in refurbished Tuscan farmhouses from early summer to the first days of fall, after which they would go back to the smog and the chaos of the city.
    â€œ. . . what I’m looking for is a chef who can fulfill our needs, someone who can make brunch for twenty as easily as he can prepare an elegant dinner for a cozy group. A chef who can surprise our guests with unique dishes, with ideas that—”
    Matteo interrupted her: “You chose the right place; I have just the right person for you. I just need to find out what this person’s schedule is these days.”
    Carla smiled, satisfied.
    â€œPerfect. We’ll arrange a test dinner and see what’s what. We’re willing to offer a four-month contract at a flat rate, plus extras for each lunch or dinner depending on the amount of work that goes into it.”
    File under “pragmatic and efficient,” Matteo thought. Margherita was definitely going to blow this woman away her with her menus, and a steady job would at least keep her in Roccafitta through the summer . . .
    â€œI assume you’ll need plates and glassware,” he added. “To personalize a dinner and make it special, the table setting is very important. Sometimes all it takes is a particulartype of glass, a dish that’s just slightly oval, a centerpiece . . .”
    The woman mulled this over.
    â€œWe’ll decide case by case,” she answered at last. Then she got up and held out her hand. “I look forward to hearing from you, I know you won’t let me down,” were the last words she said as she gave him a seductive smile.
    Matteo promised he’d send her all the details as soon as possible and watched as she walked out of the agency with a determined step. She was the kind of woman—unnatural, arrogant—he found hard to like. And he couldn’t help comparing her with Margherita, who was so simple, natural, straightforward. However, the woman’s application had come at just the right moment. All he had to do now was use all his powers of persuasion to convince his friend!

    Giulia, paintbrush in hand, was just finishing painting her beehives. It was a nice sunny day and the worker bees were buzzing back and forth tirelessly. After one last brushstroke, she stood back and took a look, congratulating herself on her work. She was proud that she had managed to start a business on the side, and in no time at all, word was getting around about the honey produced at Hechura, her farmhouse business. She packed up her paintbrushes and headed toward the farmhouse, out of which blasted the cheerful notes of Andrés Calamaro, one of her favorite rock singers. Yes, she was rather content. She was thinking about how she was going to enjoy making strawberry tree honey, and that maybe next fall, if business was good, she could make her dream come true: move her bees to Sardinia so she could diversify her product. Of course, to do that, she wasgoing to need a lot of money, but Giulia preferred to see the glass half full. She was heading toward the toolshed when Gualtiero’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
    â€œGood morning, Giulia, look at what I brought for you . . .” He came toward her holding a crate filled with anchovies. “They’re very fresh, I’ve already cleaned them.”
    Giulia smiled. Enough to feed an army!
    â€œI don’t know how to thank you, but they really are too many,” she objected. She was used to receiving payments in