Page 67 of A Pizza My Heart

“Me?”

“Yes. Out!”

I stand here, sputtering for words as my father glides toward me.

“What’s going on?”

Stopping in front of me, he points toward the door. “Out. You’re banned for the night. You’ve been working too hard, my little bird. You need a night off.”

“But you need the help. Foster can’t handle this himself.”

“He’s doing just fine on his own.”

“His own? He’s on his own?”

My eyes seek out Foster, who seems to be taking care of everything with ease, whipping around the store, slinging slices like he never left. As if he senses us talking about him, Foster lifts his head and looks our way. He sends me a wink and my knees try to buckle, though I can’t tell if it’s from the gesture or the fact that he scored me a night off work, my first in weeks…or perhaps months.

My father gently grabs my arm, steering me outside.

“See? We have everything taken care of. Go rest. I’m sorry I’ve been working you so hard. You’re just the only one I can rely on. Winston is…”

“Winston?” I provide, because we both know that covers everything.

“Exactly.” He laughs. “We have it covered here until Monday, but you can come back tomorrow if you want…”

Meaning he wants me there for the extra set of hands because Saturdays are always packed, but he doesn’t want to ask me.

At least I have tonight.

“Are you sure?” I ask again, afraid to leave.

“Positive.”

“Call if things get dicey?”

“I promise.”

I nod. “Okay. Only if you’re sure.”

He shakes his head. “I am. Now leave—and don’t try to sneak in the back. I’m watching you.”

I laugh, because it really is something I’d do. It’s not that I love working at Slice or anything, but I love my family. I love helping them. I want to be there when they need me. It’s hard for me to turn away from them, even when they say everything is under control.

“You have my word.”

He kisses the top of my head. “Good night, kiddo.”

“Later.”

I spin on my heel and head toward my car, a newfound pep in my step because this chick has an entire night off.

Andthe shop doesn’t open until noon tomorrow.

I have nearly twenty hours to do whatever the heck I want.

Take a bath. Bake some cupcakes. Order takeout. Cozy up in my jammies and binge-watch something juicy.

Or sleep.

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