“Then maybe we should get rid of the pizza.”
My chest pinches. “But we have to offer pizza.”
“No, we don’t. We have other options. And we could add more candy to the menu instead.”
“Candy isn’t comforting,” I argue. “And it doesn’t fill you up.”
“It does if you eat a lot of it.”
“But what about the pizza?” I sound stricken.
Theo scrunches his nose. “Are we still talking about the disgusting pizza? Or are we considering new, non-disgusting pizza options?”
I rest my head in my hands. I can’t explain the pinpricks behind my eyes, and I can’t seem to take a breath that’s deep enough to fill my lungs.
This is not about the pizza.
A hand waves in front of my face. Theo’s. “Boss, are you okay?”
I sit up, embarrassed. “It’s just been a long day.”That started with a car chase.“And a lot of tough decisions.”About putting my fate in Penn’s hands. And liking the feeling of his hands more than I should.
“All good,” Theo says, although he doesn’t look convinced. He picks up his pen again, holding it over his notebook. “So. You were saying. The pizza?”
I plaster on a smile. “Let me get back to you on that.”
—
Penn misses thetaste test he planned. And a meeting to discuss the rink’s hours. And an appointment that he booked with the electrician, a lovely man named Rick who seemed rather confused as to why I, as the business owner, didn’t know we had issues with blinking lightbulbs.
I understand that Penn’s quietly launching a business of his own, and I’m genuinely happy for him, and it’s not like he’s officially on the payroll. But I need him to be where he says he’ll be, because I’m on a literal time crunch, and my best escape strategies have only gotten more complicated. Winning over Penn is turning me into a damn fool. And with Rollerworld’s offer on the table, revamping The Disco Diner isn’t straightforward, either. I’m still not sure if I should try to save the business or sell it.
I’m meeting Connor for coffee tomorrow, and according to our email chain, I’ve already asked him about a business appraisal—which means MASH Ruby has at least considered Rollerworld’s offer. Hopefully, with Connor’s insights, I’ll get a better idea of how to handle The Disco Diner’s future. And how I’ll get back to mine.
Still, I stew over Penn all afternoon. I plan to pounce when I see him—make him understand how important it is that we focus on the rink, and that he uphold his end of the deal.
Except, when he walks into the staff room at half past four wearing the Disco Diner uniform in a size that actually fits, I consider pouncing for other, more disturbing reasons.
The jeans hug Penn’s thighs, and his tan skin glows against the white shirt, the sleeves tight around his arms. He’s left the top two buttons undone, his hair’s disheveled in a good way, and somehow he’s managing to pull off the entire look.
That, or a post-lemonade sugar crash has me seeing things.
I’m painfully aware that it’s just the two of us inside the small, cramped room, and after all the wild emotional swings of the day, I don’t know what to think. My usual frustration toward Penn is laced with unfortunate affection. My simple plan to lock lips and skedaddle isn’t feeling so simple now that he’s shown a vulnerability I’ve never seen. Awakened nerve endings I never knew I had.
I’ve never felt like this with Connor. Not even in the beginning.
It’s terrifying. I’m not in control—of this game, or myself, or my body. And it’s all Penn’s fault. Penn, whose very appearance is suddenly enough to make me blush.
At a loss, I thrust my head into the refrigerator to avoid looking at him. He waits for me to say something. I don’t.
“Ruby?”
“Yes?”
“Have you found what you’re looking for in there?”
The fridge is quite cold. I’m eye-to-can with a six-pack of LaCroix. “No.”
“Do you need some help?”
