Page 281

She grabs a clipboard from under the counter and heads toward them.

The kitchen is hotter than the dining room and louder than the street. Two workers move between the prep counter and the ovens with intense concentration. Linda stands near the pass, grabbing pizzas as soon as they’re sliced.

Clint’s at the center of it, sweaty and focused. He watches the ovens, sliding one pizza out, checking the bottom, turning and sliding it back in. His black shirt sticks to his back and flour streaks his forearm.

I stand back and let myself look.

Clint glances up like he feels me lurking, and his whole face changes. Then he points at the guy working the second oven. “Rotate that one or you’re taking it home tonight.”

Clint steps away, wiping his forehead with his arm as he comes toward me.

“What’re you hearing out there?”

I glance toward the dining room. “Already sold a painting.”

He gives me a look.

“What?”

His mouth twitches. “Paul, c’mon.”

“They love your pizza,” I say. “Lenny and Dee give five stars. People are smiling all the way to the park.”

His shoulders drop. “Hopefully it’s good enough to pay for.”

“The line hasn’t stopped.”

“It’s free.”

“And if it were terrible, people would take one slice, gossip kindly, and leave.”

He considers that, nods. Then his eyes flick toward the chaos behind him, like he’s afraid to trust it.

I put my hand on his chest. His heart is fast under my palm.

“You’re a success, okay?”

He exhales. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Take the win.”

Clint looks at me, then smiles.

“I’d kiss you,” he says, “but I’m dripping garlic sweat.”

“Then I’ll kiss you.”

I reach up, take his damp face in both hands, and pull him down. He wasn’t wrong. He tastes like salt and garlic and heat.

Somewhere behind him, a timer shrieks. Someone says, “Shit.”

Clint laughs against my mouth before pulling back.

The door swings open, and Linda leans in. “We need more olive out here.”

“Olive?” Clint asks.

“You know what olives are, son. Those little salty circles.” She looks from him to me, head shaking in disbelief. “Don’t know what’s with this town and olives.”