Page 198 of Mr. Infuriating

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” He flipped the menu over. “It looks like they have apple and orange juice or milk—whole, two percent, and chocolate.”

Hearing that, Jake clapped. “Choco milk, Mama! Pweez!”

I smiled at his enthusiasm. “Okay, baby. You can have chocolate milk.”

Troy didn’t even acknowledge Jake, just glanced around and wondered out loud, “Do they have servers or are we supposed to order at the counter?”

“I’m not sure.”

Just as I was about to suggest Troy go find out, a young woman appeared at our table dressed in a red and white striped retro uniform with the top three buttons undone. She appeared to be in her late teens/early twenties, and I noticed Troy’s gaze fixated on her boobs popping out of her uniform.

“Hi! Welcome to Mickey’s! My name’s Christine and I’ll be helping ya out today. Are you ready to order?”

Troy flashed a smile that I’m sure he thought was charming, but frankly, I thought it came off as lecherous.

“Hey there, Christine. What pizza specials do you have that include beer?”

She shook her head. “We don’t have any; you have to order beer separately.”

He raked his gaze back down to her boobs, then to her face again. “But I can order it from you, right? So, you’ll get the gratuity?”

At the mention of gratuity, she giggled, causing her boobs to jiggle. “Of course.”

Troy didn’t even look our way when he asked, “Do any of the pizzas come with tokens?”

She leaned forward, conveniently giving Troy a better view of her twins when she grabbed the menu he’d just been reading to point out the different options. Troy sat rapt listening to her, like the fucker didn’t know how to read.

“We’ll go with the Number Three.”

Christine stood up straight to pull her order pad and pen from her apron pocket.

“What kind of pizza?”

“Supreme.”

I scoffed. “Jake won’t eat anything but cheese.”

You’d know that if you’d ever been around.

“I’m not eating a plain pizza.” He offered Christine a smile. “I’m a man—I eat meat.”

It took everything in me not to roll my eyes. There was more to being a man than eating meat. I knew a certain cabinet maker who could give him some pointers on the subject.

“Fine,” I replied through gritted teeth. “Get a pepperoni and I’ll pick them off for him.”

I don’t know if Troy did as I asked, because I heard Jake squeal, “Bandit!” before sliding out of his booster seat and landing under the table. He then took off running before I registered what was happening.

The bags next to me prohibited me from easily sprinting after him, and I noticed his little arms stretched out wide before he was picked up by a man who looked an awful lot like Gabe. I had to squint to make sure it really was him, and not my imagination.

But as if I’d conjured him up, he was there—in the flesh.

My little guy was talking a mile a minute, with both his hands on Gabe’s cheeks to make sure he had the man’s full attention. They seemed to be wearing matching grins.

Brittany and Brayden flanked them on either side.

That’s my family.

I felt so sure about it that it didn’t even freak me out. I’d rather Jake be my only kid and be with Gabe than have another child and end up with a loser like Troy.

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