About half an hour later, Arielle returns with a single box of pizza. “I didn’t realize that place closes so early. I got the last one.” She sets the grease-soaked box on the counter. “I hope you like plain cheese, because that’s all they had.”
“That’s fine.” I’m so hungry I could eat the whole pizza myself, but I didn’t tell her that.
She helps herself to plates and dishes out slices of pizza, handing one to me and then sets two more on a table, and calls out to Christian who is still locked up in his office. “Pizza’s on the table!”
We stare at the door as it slowly creeps open, and Christian emerges with a polite nod to her while he hobbles over. “Tell me something.” His gaze catches on mine. “Is this place always this dead?”
“Not when I worked.” I stare at my pizza on the plate in front of me, waiting for him to connect the dots.
“Do you know what happened to my customers?” Christian lowers himself softly to the chair. I don’t tell him chair tends to be unstable. The old owner did nothing to repair this place.
“They might have been staying away after I told them you fired me.”
“That’s interesting.” He shoots a stern look at Arielle, but she returns it even harder.
He lifts one foot with a quick jerking motion, plopping it on the chair in front of him as he folds his pizza in half like a true New Yorker, even though he’s from Massachusetts. A cheese tail dangles in front of him as he breaks off his first bite. Drool puddles in my mouth, and I dig into my own slice.
After chewing, he dabs the corner of his mouth with a napkin and resumes conversation. “How did you contact them?”
I swallow my pizza and lick the dot of sauce that leaked onto my lip. “The old owner never had a system in place for ordering online. He’s old school. I give my customers my number to text an order for pickup, and Imighthave replied back to all their messages letting them know I was fired.”
“Hmm.” His gaze zeroes in on me, while still shoveling pizza in the side of his mouth. Even in the dimly lit room, the silverish gray inflections in his eyes sparkle with honest interest. “You don’t say." Christian finishes his last bite of pizza, picks up his second slice, and holds it in the air in pause while he talks. “So, do you think you can ask them to return?”
“I didn’t tell them to leave. They just did that on their own.”
With no change of expression, Christian drops his tone. “I’ll be honest I assumed you did something to run them all off.”
“That was all on them.” I wanted so badly to bat my eyelashes the way I normally do when conversations get hard, but he is holding my gaze so steadily, I didn’t dare flinch. “I’m really good at this job and they were being loyal.”
Christian blinks a couple of times before his gaze slides to Arielle, who hasn’t touched her pizza. She is typing on her phone. “El,” he verbally pokes her. “You’re the one who wanted the pizza, and you’re not eating.”
“What did you say?” Her top row of even teeth pinches her bottom lip. “I forgot we had food.”
“That’s my point exactly.” Christian and I chuckle in unison as he jerks his thumb toward the door. “We’d better get out of here. It’s getting late.” He digs in his pocket, retrieving his key ring with a rental car tag still on it.
“Thanks for helping today!” Arielle smiles sweetly at me while grabbing the dishes we used and sliding them into the sink. She takes her untouched pizza off her plate, folding it in half, and biting it as she moves toward the door. “We’ll see you again tomorrow. You are still going to open for me, right?”
“Sure.” My phone vibrates, and I raise an eyebrow toward the screen.
Dad: They closed the interstate, but we pulled off in time to get one of the last hotel rooms. We are fine. Hope you are, too.
Rolling my bottom lip, I ponder. If Dad heard I went back to work here, he’d be concerned. They already have enough stress on their plate, and I didn’t want to give them more stress. I text,
Me: That’s too bad. Don’t worry about me. Everything is fine.
I drop my phone in my pocket and look up, expecting to see the door shutting as they left in front of me. Instead, Christian is lingering behind with his eyes fixed on me. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” My brows furrow together briefly. “Just my parents. They're supposed to drive home, but there’s a weather delay. Nothing serious.”
“That’s too bad.” He props the door open with his foot, not letting it close. “I noticed you walk here. Did you need a ride home?”
Normally, I’d say no because I like to hand out QR cards on my way home, but I’m anxious to get home fast to reply to all mymessages. A ride would save me twenty minutes. “Yeah, I’ll take one, if you’re going that way.”
“Come with us,” Arielle waves me forward, and I pass through the door, falling in step with them.
“Thanks for dinner, by the way,” I say to make conversation before adding, “That was nice of you.” Alarmed, I check behind me. Where did that come from? Christian isn’t nice. Those two words can never be in the same sentence. He’s not capable of being nice. He’s an incorrigible jerk I can’t stand. I’m only here so Oliver doesn’t get in trouble.
My brow bends slightly, not into a full furrow as I’m cautious about how my face flexes now that I’m almost thirty. I recall Arielle explaining Christian’s mood is a guard.
