Chapter Ten
Savannah looked shell-shocked. Why wouldn’t she be when her entire concept of her father had been turned on its head?
“I’m not hungry,” she said.
“You’ll feel better once you eat.” He hoped. “Do you still like pizza?”
“Of course I like pizza. Doesn’t everybody?”
He smiled. “Tastes change. I hear there’s a pizza place in the strip mall east of town.”
“There is. Lucy’s Pizza.”
“Interesting name for a pizza place.”
A reluctant smile curved her lips. “It was supposed to be Lucky’s but the people who made the sign screwed up. The owners had scheduled a grand opening, so they went ahead and opened, thinking they’d get a new sign later. But Lucy’s stuck.”
Harlan laughed. “That’s the Whiskey River I know and love. Come on. I’ll drive and drop you back for your car afterwards.”
Savannah appeared lost in thought and spoke little on the way to dinner. Harlan couldn’t blame her. She was bound to be reeling. He suspected at least a part of her hoped what he’d told her wasn’t true. Hoped her father would have a way of explaining.
Harlan would bet his last dollar Taylor would try to discredit him. The question was, would Savannah buy it?
Lucy’s wasn’t busy, probably because it was early on a weeknight. They seated themselves in a quiet booth at the back of the restaurant. Outdoor seating was also available but it was too cold to sit outside.
“What do you want?” Harlan asked, looking at the menu.
“Original crust pepperoni. What do you like?”
“Everything.”
“Lucy’s super special is probably the one you want.”
“No, I meant I like pizza almost any way it comes. But no sardines or anchovies,” he added.
Savannah laughed. “How could I have forgotten that? You always thought pizza was the perfect food.”
“Still do. I haven’t changed that much.”
They ordered Savannah’s preference and a couple of beers. While they ate they talked about Whiskey River and how it had grown, people they’d both known from high school, and new businesses rumored to be coming to town.
They sat nursing their beers after they’d eaten what they wanted. “My ex-wife hated pizza,” Harlan said. “I should have taken that as a sign.”
“What is she like? Besides the fact she hates pizza. Is she pretty?”
Harlan nodded. “Gorgeous. She used it like a weapon.”
“Sounds like you had a bad divorce.”
“Is there such a thing as a good one?”
