Page 1 of A Pizza My Heart

Slice One

Wren

“Wren! Couple at table five. You want it?”

I bite back a groan. “Do I have a choice?”

Beth laughs sardonically, her midnight curls bouncing off her shoulders as she shakes her head at me. “I can’t believe you wasted time even asking. Chop-chop!”

Without another word, she breezes back inside like she didn’t just interrupt the last five minutes of my break.

In all fairness, I should be used to it. It happens every time. You’d think being the daughter of the owner would have its perks—like extended breaks—but nope.

“Customers always come first, Wren. Always.”

“Even before family?”

“Especially before family. I see enough of you shits at home every night.”

Ah, dear old Dad. Such a gem.

Pushing off the old brick wall, I tug the lone earbud from my ear and wrap the set around my phone before tucking it into my pocket.

I blow out an exasperated breath, square my shoulders, and march inside to meet my doom.

And by meet my doom, I mean wait tables.

Which is basically the same thing.

Why my dad wants me—the queen of inserting her foot into her mouth—working at his restaurant and interacting with actual paying customers is beyond me.

I’m horrible with people. My filter is out of commission half the time, and to top it all off, I can’t balance anything on a tray to save my life.

Yeah, Dad, me working here is a great idea.

Snatching my apron off the hook, I work to tie it around my waist as I bob and weave past the other waitstaff, making my way to the waitress station to clock back in from my truncated break.

“You have a hottie out there. Jealous I didn’t get here first.”

I grin over at my best friend, who’s clocking herself in for her shift. “You have a boyfriend, Drew.”

“So? It’s like being on a diet—I can appreciate what’s on the menu without actually ordering it.” She winks. “Besides, I see Chadwick check out other girls all the time. Figured I could do the same.”

“It’s disrespectful for him to do that to you,” I point out for what feels like the millionth time. They haven’t been dating for long, but I already don’t like this new boyfriend of hers. “And who the hell names their kid Chadwick?” I add.

“Villains.”

I laugh. “That sounds about right.” I give myself a shake. “All right, let’s do this. I’m going out there.”

“Good luck—and grab his number!”

“He’s probably on a date!”

“Most likely just a first date.”

“A date is still a date.”

“You’re so boring.”

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