Page 19 of A Pizza My Heart

“Except where Winston is concerned, apparently.”

“I’ll talk to him tonight.”

“That would be amazing. The jerk never listens to me, but you always had a way of getting him to do what he’s supposed to.”

“I’m just good like that.”

She smiles at me, and for the first time since she sat down, it’s a genuinely warm smile.

“I really did miss you, Foster.”

“I know you did.” I wink. “I missed you too.”

Her eyes roll skyward as she pushes to her feet, making sure to grab her chocolate milk. “Am I going to be seeing you more now that you’ve moved back?”

God, I hope so.

“You can count on it.”

She peers down at me, her blue gaze steady and questioning.

Orange juice. Superman. Chips and salsa.

Her lips twitch. “Are you doing it again?”

“Dammit, Wren,” I grumble, somehow missing her even more when she walks away.

Slice Three

Wren

“My feet arekillingme today.” Drew attaches herself to the wall next to the computer, resting her hands on her thighs and trying to stretch out her short legs. “This shift is draining.”

“BOGO Wednesdays always are.”

A few years ago, my father had this idea to start doing a buy one, get one day once a week to help drive sales during the off-season too. At first it was just the locals who ate it up, but by the end of that first summer, we were famous for it.

That said, our BOGO day isn’t the only thing this pizza joint is known for, because we aren’t your ordinary pizzeria—not by a long shot. My dad creates the wackiest pizzas he can think of. Mac and cheese with actual noodles. Hot dogs and baked beans. Fried chicken fingers and waffles. French fries. Cheese stick pizza—a personal favorite of mine. Biscuits and gravy pizza. And there’s even a breakfast platter pie that comes complete with mini pancakes.

It’s odd, but it works for us. Customers are always creating their own combinations too.

Drew lets out another long groan, massaging her thighs. “Simon is the worst for doing this to us. He’s lucky he’s hot.”

“Don’t start, Drew,” I warn. “I’m too tired to keep up with your horndog crap today.”

She laughs and pushes off the wall as I finish up, sliding in front of the computer and ringing in her latest check.

As grueling as this shift is and despite her complaining, I know on some level she’s happy we’re dead on our feet, especially since her car recently broke down for the third time this year. The last thing my independent best friend will do is ask her family or anyone else for help. She’ll shoulder the burden and take all the extra shifts she can get to make it on her own.

I love her for it.

“Are you pulling a double again?” I ask, nonchalant but ready to offer her a ride home no matter how late it gets.

“Get this shit…your brother actually showed up to work today. Just came in five minutes ago. Of course he’s already taking a smoke break, but he’s here.”

“Really?” My brows shoot up. “Huh. Guess Foster talked some sense into him.”

“Speaking of that hottie…”

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