His cheek quirks up with the hint of a smile before he sobers and eyes the water in my hand. “Finish that up and I’ll see you out front.”
Once he disappears, I jump up from the chair and scurry into the locker room. Unwilling to make him wait long for me, I scramble to my locked up belongings and fumble with the key to get my things out.
The idea of having dinner with Noah shouldn’t be filling me with this much nervous energy. It’s a meal at a stuffy country club, for God’s sake. But the phantom of his arm around my middle and the cleared air and apology wiping away my frustrations with what I wrongly assumed were his attempts at establishing the upper hand pull a giddy thrill as I zip up my dress.
He’s standing near the front desk, and even with his wrinkled golf clothes and mussed hair, he is handsome. More so in some ways.
“I don’t know if you had your heart set on the club for dinner, but the desk attendant was telling me about this great pizza place not too far from here. She says it’s the best in town. It’s a pretty nice evening, and we could walk if you’re up for it.”
I summon a bright smile, and push his arm playfully. “I didn’t know they had a Dominos here.”
Noah rolls his eyes. “Have I taught you nothing? Expect more, expectthe best.”
I shrug and walk past him towards the door. “I’m still not convinced there is better.”
We are forty minutes into the walk before Noah realizes when the desk attendant said the place wasn’t far, she didn’t mean city block not far. He pulls up the location on his phone and frowns.
“It’s another mile.”
Though my dress is comfortable, the sandals I paired it with are not made for walking. But, knowing it’s at least that far back to the club, I keep moving.
“This better be some damn good pizza, Graves.”
It isn’t until we are walking along the highway that we really start to regret our choices. My stomach is growling and my feet have blisters forming when the neon sign sporting what looks like Mario in a chef’s hat throwing a pizza crust, finally appears.
Vinny’s Pizza is a hole in the wall at best, and a standing health code violation at worst. The dingy linoleum floors and fluorescent light bulbs flickering as we enter set my expectations low. Noah looks absolutely horrified and I can’t help but snort a laugh.
“How’s your ‘only the best’ rule treating you now?”
He makes a face and we step across the sticky floor. A lanky teenager in a black t-shirt sits at the register, hunched over their phone. They do not look up when we approach.
I crane my neck to peer at the faded menu as Noah peruses the waxy by-the-slice offerings in the glass case. Finally, the youth looks up and is surprised to see us, but they soon drop back into a bored composure.
“Welcome to Vinny’s.”
I stifle a laugh as Noah opens his mouth, and then closes it again as if he’s entirely unsure how to proceed.
“Are you still cooking pizza, or are we limited to by the slice? Someone recommended your custom pies, and we’ve come a long way.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my laughter in check. The teen’s face remains flat.
“I mean I could bake one, but I’d have to wait for my cousin to get back from his delivery. He’s the only one authorized to operate the oven.”
“Do you know when he’ll be back?”
They shrug. “Probably a half hour or so.”
It is clear they do not want to make us a pizza so I chime in to try and salvage the experience. “I’ll take a slice of the pepperoni, and he’ll take….”
Noah scrunches his nose and looks at his choices again, as if he’s hoping they’ll transform into something else entirely. “I’ll take pepperoni too, I guess.”
The teen shrugs and grabs two paper plates. After placing a slice on each, they close the case and stack the plates on the counter. Noah reaches for his wallet, and I put my hand on his.
“I’ve got this.” I hand the mellow natured teen a twenty and swipe the plates off the counter. “Keep the change.”
“It’s only four dollars,” they say, and I wink.
When we break into the cool night air, the two of us melt into hysterics.
