The Devil Served Desire
morning, getting a pedicure for myself and Aphrodite."
    "Another idea?" Maria said. "So soon?"
    "Oh, you know me. An idea a minute." Monica let out a giggle. "My head is positively spinning with ideas for the ceremony and reception."
    "You know we only have two months until the big day," Rebecca said. "Changing things at this point will—"
    "Cost me more. I know. But Daddy said whatever makes me happy is worth any price." Monica picked up Aphrodite." And Daddy loves his little girl, doesn't he, pumpkin?" She cuddled the dog to her face.
    "So we aren't going with the Cher theme anymore?"
    "Turns out Daddy is allergic to peacocks. The centerpieces would have given him hives." Monica shook her head, lips pursed. "Poor Daddy. He's never even been to a zoo, can you believe it?"
    "That is a ... a hardship."
    "Anyway, I was thinking it might be more fun to have a train theme, because my Lester is so into locomotives."
    "Trains, huh?" Candace managed. "Is he a collector?"
    Monica twiddled her fingers at her lips, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "More an ... enthusiast, you could say."
    "Choo, choo," Maria whispered into Candace's ear, covering the joke with a slight cough. Candace gave her an elbow jab.
    "We can do trains," Rebecca said. "Let's go into the office and jot down a few ideas." She gestured to Monica, who followed along, Aphrodite taking quick dainty steps beside her.
    Candace grabbed Maria's arm before they headed into the office. "You can't leave me hanging. Details. I need details."
    "Nope. Not even under pasta torture." Maria grabbed the office door handle. "Besides, we need to get in here and help, so Lester can get cozy with Thomas the Tank Engine at his wedding."
    "You are a bad influence on me," Candace said, laughing.
    Maria gave her a quick one-armed hug. "Hey, we all have our missions in life."

Vinny's Osso-Buco-of-Tearful-Contrition
     
     
    2 tablespoons of flour
    Salt and pepper
    4 veal shanks, supremely high quality
    2 tablespoons olive oil
    1 onion, minced (be careful not to cry as you chop)
    1 celery stalk, minced
    1 leek, minced
    1/2 carrot, minced
    2 cloves garlic, minced
    1-1/4 cups white wine (pick an excellent vintage for apologizing)
    1-1/4 cups chicken or veal stock
    2 bay leaves
    Zest of 1 lemon
    1 14-ounce can chopped tomatoes
    Salt and pepper
     
    Gremolata:
    2 teaspoons minced fresh parsley
    Zest of 1 lemon
    1 clove garlic, minced
     
    Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Season the flour with salt and pepper, then lightly dredge the veal. Shake off any excess and make sure everything is perfectly coated.
    Put an ovenproof casserole on the stove. Turn on the burner. Do not look at the flame! This is no time for distractions. Heat the oil, then add the veal and the onion. Brown the veal on both sides. Keep your mind and eyes on your task; don't get sidetracked. Remember, this is your chance to make up for that other ... ah, incident. Remove the veal and set on a towel to drain.
    Add the other vegetables, stir and cook until softened. Then add remaining ingredients, seasoning to taste. Try not to cry over the pan, thinking about how you almost lost your job and how your rent is due and the air conditioner is broken ... Pull yourself together now.
    Focus. Focus .
    Return the veal to the pan. Cover and cook everything for two hours or until veal is tender enough to be pierced with a fork, just like your sorry heart.
    In a small bowl, combine the gremolata ingredients. Sprinkle on top of the osso buco. Serve immediately—
    Before you do anything else stupid.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Vita was a madhouse. If Dante didn't own the place, he wouldn't believe it was the same restaurant as last week. Reservations were being called in faster than Franco could answer the phone, diners were lining up outside the door, waiting for any available table.
    The review had worked a miracle. Perhaps he should nominate George Whitman for sainthood.
    "Ah, your papa would be so proud," Franco said, coming alongside

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