Page 7 of The Princess and the Pizza Man

“I’m excited over all food,” Will said, tucking his napkin into the collar of his t-shirt. He paid no mind that he was the only one placing it there and not on his lap.

“You sound like our princess,” she answered, and he felt his brows turn in. The woman nodded at Winter who sat at the head next to a chubby and boisterous man. “Princess Winter. She’s quite the foodie.”

“Princess?” he asked. “Princess of what?”

The woman laughed like he was an idiot. “Frostville.”

Okay, so people here were crazy. Either that or Winter put off the cute, “I’m normal, too!” vibe while secretly making everyone refer to her as royalty. Will stabbed his salad and shoved it in his mouth, bitterness making him sloppier than he would’ve been under different circumstances.Princess? Really?

The woman placed her fork down and stuck her hand out. “I’m Ms. Emily Vancouver. Winter’s tutor.”

Will swallowed and shook her hand. “Will Monroe. Just a guest here.”

“Yes, I figured.” She went back to her salad. “Where are you from, Will?”

“Alabama, ma’am.”

“I was thinking around there. Your accent is so very strong.”

He grinned through his food. “First time someone’s told me I have an accent.”

“You’re joking.”

He shook his head, the conversation making him feel a bit more at ease. But he wasn’t about to look at Winter. Or call her “Princess” for that matter. Who was that full of themselves?

“This is my first time outside the state.” A long breath fell from his lips. “Been kinda strange.”

“I can imagine.” Ms. Vancouver plucked her glass up with a dainty, fragile hand. “I love Alabama. Such good people there.”

His heart lifted. “You been?”

“Many, many times.”

They fell into an easy conversation all through the first and second courses; Alabama was something Will could talk about for days on end. And it was a somewhat cure for his homesickness… and his mood. After the main course of chicken cordon bleu—which was phenomenal—he felt his irritation float away, replaced by relaxation.

“… you would notbelievethe look on this guy’s face!” The loud voice of the man next to Winter came floating across the table, grabbing the attention of every guest there. He was laughing, his face near purple as he tried to get air into his lungs. Will started laughing, too, wishing he’d heard the beginning of the story that had this guy rolling.

Will’s eyes flicked to Bells, her head leaned in closely with the woman-magnet. He planned on talking to the guy at some point.

The hulk of a man on the other side of her, shifted in his seat, his eyes darting to Winter and to her plate. Back and forth. Like he was waiting for her to take her first bite of the dessert.

Winter laughed, completely oblivious, her smile so genuine and adorable that Will had a hard time believing the woman was conceited at all.

There was this sudden tightness in Will’s chest that made him want to get up, cross to her side of the table, and knock that dessert right to the floor. What in the world was that guy lookin’ at? What was he waitin’ for?

“Oh,” Winter said to one of the servers, jolting him out of his reverie. “I asked for strawberry. Not strawberry chocolate.”

She went to hand the bowl back, and Will felt a blanket of relief. He was most likely being paranoid, but he’d known several people who would tamper with food. Employed some, fired them all.

“I’ll trade you, Princess,” the man next to her said, his face turning back to its original color, but there were still tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. “I prefer the mix anyway.”

They gladly traded, and the man started telling another story. Will’s eyes shot back to Mr. Big and Tall, but he was getting up, excusing himself politely to use the restroom.

“You all right, dear?” Ms. Vancouver asked. She put a light hand on his arm. “You look upset.”

He shook his head. “I’m good. Thank you, ma’am.”

But he wasn’t good. Not at all. Something felt off, but he shrugged it away when Winter and the man next to her took healthy bites of their food with no real effect other than big eyes and excitement for their next scoop.

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