His grin only grew.
Shaking my head with a tiny grin of my own, I untied the back of my shop apron and lifted it over my head to fold and stow it on the shelf beneath the register. Following my lead, Piper removed her apron, folded hers much more neatly, and laid it on top of mine.
Dad pulled a couple of twenties from his wallet and handed them to me. “Pick up some pizza on your way home—and save me a slice.”
As I took the money, I stood on my toes and kissed his stubbly cheek. “Thanks, Dad. We’ll save you two—maybe three.” I winked, and he winked back. “The usual?”
“Sure, unless Piper isn’t a fan.”
My dad in a nutshell: considerate of everyone. No doubt that consideration was what had ensured a thriving business in our small town despite the lure of online retailers offering cheaper prices.
“What’s the usual?” Piper asked as we headed back to the break room to retrieve our coats and purses.
“Pepperoni and jalapeño with extra cheese.”
“Mmm, sounds delicious. Hope you’re picking up two pies.”
We walked out the back of the store into the frosty last-day-of-December air, both of us drawing our collars up to our chins. Piper wore a gorgeous gray cashmere scarf and a matching beret, while I snuggled my cheeks lower into my standard knit Wildcats muffler. Our breaths hung in the air as we hustled over to my dad’s old pickup.
I fired up the engine, but we had to wait a few minutes for the ancient truck to warm up before I could put it in gear. Gauging my friend’s reaction to our vehicle—after all, she drove a new Camaro to deliberately piss off her corporate-raider dad who’d offered her a BMW SUV—I blinked at the dreamy-eyed expression on her face.Huh. Who would have guessed she liked old pickups?
Dad liked to walk to work—said the exercise kept his head clear. By the time he’d closed up the shop and arrived home, we’d demolished one pizza and were one slice each into the second.
“Did you leave me any dinner?” he asked as he hung up his coat on a peg by the back door.
“Barely.” I set what was left of my piece on my plate and licked my fingers. “Good thing you made it home when you did.”
All through dinner Piper and I giggled over the way old Mr.Rehnquist had kept staring at her hair as she helped him find some calk for his leaky shower. “That color exists in nature?” he’d finally asked. “It does. See?” She’d tilted her head to show him her roots, which of course were purple since she’d seen her cosmetologist between final exams. “Be damned. Never seen anything like that.” He’d grabbed his tube of calk, paid for it, and tottered out of the store, shaking his head and muttering to himself. I’d almost wrecked myself at the time trying not to laugh. Now my stomach hurt from laughing through the retelling.
Dad’s eyes twinkled. “Talking about old Rehnquist, huh?” He settled himself in his chair and slid a slice onto the plate I’d set for him. “The old guy needs a plumber, not another tube of calk, but he says he can buy a lot of calk for what a plumber would cost him.” With a shrug he smoothed his napkin over his lap and picked up his slice. “Far be it from me to tell him how to spend his money.”
“Even though you’ve mentioned the names of a plumber or two to him, I bet.” I sat back in my chair and eyed what was left of dinner on my plate.
“You can’t force someone to see sense.” Shifting his attention to my friend, he added, “Made it easy for you to have some fun with the old fella.”
“Couldn’t help it, sir,” Piper said, her eyes dancing. “With as hard as he was staring at my hair, I worried he might change the color with his eyes alone.”
A snort escaped Dad’s lips, and my friend and I grinned at each other across the table.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Piper. I gotta admit, when Chessly first proposed the idea of you interning with me, I thought I was getting some free help over the last rush of the holidays.” He bit into his slice, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. “But you have a great business mind. Starting the day after tomorrow, I plan to implement several of your ideas for streamlining my inventory. Thank you.”
“Truthfully, Mr.Clarke, I’ve learned more from you in a week than I’ve learned in the past two semesters of business classes.” Piper set her plate aside, the crust of her last slice going uneaten.
At her compliment, Dad beamed. “So what are you girls’ plans for tearing it up tonight to ring in the New Year?”
I rolled my eyes. “Kinda hard to tear anything up at the Elk Horn, Dad.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I heard Buzzy asked Shane to bring in his karaoke machine tonight. ’Course, all the caterwauling that will encourage might scare the New Year away from arriving.” He chuckled at his own joke.
Speculation gleamed in Piper’s eyes. Didn’t take a genius to know what my friend was thinking.
“Caterwauling will about cover it if we join the singing,” I said.
Dad grinned.
“We’ll duet.” Piper winked. “And we’ll probably be asked for an encore.”
I snorted. “There’s a reason why you’ve never heard me sing.”
