Page 56 of You Chive Me Crazy
I snorted, then hiccupped rather loudly, which was not attractive in the least.
“And you have veered severely off course with your nicknames,” I said. “Can we go back to cheese fries or something else?”
I felt so good at the moment, different, like I could finally cut loose and enjoy his teasing tone.
Lucas placed his hand on top of mine. “Of course, sweet potato.” His wink almost knocked me out of my chair.
And he still had his hand on mine, which made it difficult to eat. But at that moment, the pangs in my stomach were being replaced with flutters.
He was flirting with me.
Another hiccup ruined our moment.
After over half the pizza on the table was gone, Damian finally came in through the backdoor.
“You’re lucky you got here when you did,” Betsy said. “Zoe is going to eat all the pizza.”
“Is that a dare?” I asked, reaching over and grabbing another slice.
Damian glanced around the table, then froze when he saw Rolando in his usual seat. He hesitated, deep in thought, then sat in the chair on the other side of Savannah, where Kay had been sitting.
As I wondered what was going to happen next, Marty rolled the bird cage into the room.
Alexa didn’t waste any time joining in on the conversation. “Lucas has a great butt.”
Lucas glanced at each person at the table. “Okay, who taught her that one?”
Betsy blushed, making me wonder if she was the culprit.
“I’m guessing it was Kay,” Marty said. “Alexa, off.”
The parrot squawked. “Alexa, off.”
“Lucas . . . could we please have the honor of hearing you review this pizza live and spontaneously, without rehearsing?” Hank said. “It’ll be like a reality show, but we promise not to kick you off the island.”
Lucas grinned. “Sure. Why not?” He picked up his slice, studying it. “The crust is a golden melody of perfectly balanced crispness and chewiness, providing the perfect base for the rich and savory tomato sauce that, like a symphony conductor, directs the various toppings like an orchestra. The toppings themselves are like a chorus of voices, each bringing their own unique notes and textures to the mix. The salty, smoky notes of pepperoni are like the deep bass section, while the bright, tangy notes of fresh tomatoes are the lively sopranos. And just like in a great symphony, every element of this pizza is perfectly in tune with each other, creating a harmonious experience that leaves me hungry for an encore.”
Everyone clapped and cheered, except for Damian.
“Not bad at all,” Rolando said.
“Not bad?” Lucas said, his ego back in action. “Give it a shot, if you think you can do better.”
Rolando waved him off. “I don’t want to make you look bad in front of your fans, but I bet Zoe could do it.”
Lucas chuckled, then turned to me. “What do you say, Spuds McZoe? Can you handle the pressure of being put on the spot?”
“Challenge accepted.” I lifted my pizza slice, imitating Lucas the way he analyzed it, then nodded like I was ready to review it. “Behold, my friends—this pizza is a masterpiece, a work of culinary art that has captured the hearts and stomachs of millions.”
Savannah smiled and said, “I already like it.”
It was interesting how Savannah was rapidly growing on me.
Damian still didn’t say a word.
Betsy clapped. “Give us more!”
“The crust is the canvas,” I said, picking a little piece off the end of the slice and popping it in my mouth. “The crunchy, chewy foundation for the artist’s vision, firm like a pedestal, but not as rigid as Lucas Filo.”
