Page 61 of A Pizza My Heart

I recognize her from Slice. She was with the rowdy older man who was giving Wren a bunch of shit.

“Good morning,” I say with a grin, as if I wasn’t just caught checking Wren out. “Blythe, right?”

Her face lights up and she bats her dark lashes, loving that I remembered her name. “Yes. Good morning toyou.” She looks me up and down with appreciative eyes. “What did you say your name was?”

“Foster Marlett, ma’am.”

“Ah,” she tsks. “The one who left. Yes, I remember hearing about you.”

Part of me is happy to hear Wren’s mentioned me.

The other part? Yeah, not really loving that I’m known for leaving.

“I—”

“Let me guess,” Blythe cuts me off. “Youhadto leave?” She rolls her pretty eyes. “Typical response with no real answer.”

She tsks again, shaking her head, the foil making an irritating sound as the pieces rub together.

I smirk at her, used to this reaction by now and amused by how sassy she is so early in the morning.

Pointing to her foil-wrapped head, I ask, “What color are you going with?”

She fluffs her foiled locks. “A pale green. I do hope it turns out okay with my complexion.”

“Anything will be beautiful on you.” I wink, and her old heart gives out for just a moment.

“Quit flirting, Foster. It’s unbecoming,” Wren tosses my way, spinning my chair toward the mirror and pumping the handle to raise me higher.

“Unbecoming? Did I miss your eightieth birthday or something? Should I tip extra to cover my present?”

She rolls her eyes. “You won’t be tipping me because you’re not paying. I’m not charging you for a haircut.”

“You’re shitting me. My dog ran you over this morning. Of course you’re charging me.”

“Foster, you’re sleeping on my brother’s couch for crying out loud. I can’t take the money of a broke man.”

I don’t argue with her. It’s a fruitless endeavor.

I’ll find a way to slip her some dough.

“And don’t even think about trying to slip some cash my way. I’ll know and Iwillcut you.” She snips the air with her scissors for emphasis.

“Please. I’ve taken down people your size likethat.” I snap my fingers.

“Oh, you’re really bragging now. What, with my five-foot-five frame? Real impressive, Foster.” She spritzes my hair with water. “Now shut up and let me fix this mess you have going on.”

She shoves my head down with zero tact.

“Are you this rough with all the boys?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Yes. Yes, I would.

It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I bite it back.

Next to me, Blythe giggles, and I slide my eyes her way. She winks, like she knows my secret, and she probably does. Just like Molly did.

---