“Well, I’m just saying he has to be super rich or super hot—otherwise, if I were the girl, I’d have waited for the pizza. I need my energy before I get busy.”
“He’s both.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not telling me something.”
I pull her close and drop my voice to a whisper. “Does the name Ryan Pierce mean anything to you?”
“Shut the fucking front door.”
“Yah. I’m positive.”
“How positive?” Lisa sucks in a breath. “Let me dream about this moment for a second.”
“Lisa—”
“Hold on, bitch! I’m dreaming.”
I fall silent as she dreams.
Finally, she sighs. “Dang, I wish I had been there. I would’ve grabbed him.”
“This is why my dad refuses to hire you.”
Lisa scrunches up her face. “I suppose. So what’s your plan?”
“What do you mean, plan?”
“I mean, when are you going to see him again?”
“I’m not.” I shrug. “I mean, maybe on TV, and I do collect magazines with his face on them, but he’ll never order from Peretti’s again after what happened tonight. I have a sneaking suspicion he knows I caught the end of the show.”
“I’m torn between embarrassment for you and envy of you.”
“Me too, which is why I forgot to collect payment from him, and now I owe my dad money.”
“Go back!” Lisa’s eyes widen. “This is your opportunity! Show up and ask him for the money he owes you.”
“No, that’s embarrassing!”
“I’ll do it, then, and I’ll give him two options. How’s this?” Lisa takes a step back and gives some serious hip swagger. “Hello, Mr. Pierce. You have two options: either give me the pizza money, or take me inside and ravage me on your kitchen table. If you choose option two, the pie’s on me.”
“Yeah, all right. Go ahead.” I wave for her to go outside first. “I’ve gotta run. Thanks for coming out tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I still say you go collect from Ryan.”
“If I listened to all of your advice, I’d be in jail.”
“Well, I’d be in jail with you.”
“That’s why we’re best friends.”
CHAPTER 5
Andi
I throw my car into park and hustle into Peretti’s just before two a.m. I skid through the door seconds before the cleaners lock the place up.
“Here’s your money, Dad.” I don’t meet Angela’s eyes. She’s scrubbing a pan in the industrial sink and shooting daggers at me. “From my last delivery.”
“You’re lucky.” My dad looks up. He’s sitting at one of the small diner tables counting out the day’s tips, blatantly ignoring the cash in my hand. “Turns out we have an honest customer.”
“What are you talking about?” I tuck the crumpled bills back into my pocket before my dad can change his mind. I pulled them from my secret stash in the Toyota’s trunk where I keep cash for emergency scenarios, like when a hot man opens the door in a towel and turns my brain synapses into fireworks.
“I got a phone call an hour ago from a guy who said he ordered a smiley face pizza. Said the delivery girl was very professional and delivered an excellent pizza, but that he forgot to pay. So, he gave me his credit card over the phone and took care of the bill.”
“Oh, uh…” I clear my throat. “That was really nice of him.”
My dad pushes his glasses higher on his nose. He peers over the sheet of paper where he’s tallied the sales by hand. He believes computers are evil and will rise up and kill us. Our tax guy is never impressed by this belief. Last Christmas, Angela and I invested in a laptop for him, hooked it up, showed him how to use it, and…he now uses it as a shelf for his lunch box.
I turn to leave. “That’s nice. See you tomorrow.”
“Andi, wait.” My dad stands. He sighs, counting out a few bills from the pile on his desk. “This is for you.”
“What?” I gape at the stack of twenties in my hand. There are at least five of them here. I’m not particularly great at math, but I can calculate this one. “A hundred-dollar tip?”
“Apparently your friend is generous. He left a two-hundred-dollar tip, but I’m keeping half as a penalty because you forgot to collect payment.” My dad crosses his arms. He’d look sort of cute, his face a little wrinkled, round glasses that Santa might wear perched on his nose, but right now he’s wearing a frown and looks grumpy. “And because you ditched work twenty minutes early for your show.”
“Thanks, Dad!” I don’t care about him keeping half the tip. This hundred bucks is more than I’m used to walking away with on any given night, let alone a single delivery. I’m still staring at it as I head toward the doors. I can buy coffee for weeks and weeks with this.
“Andi,” he calls after me. “What’d you do for him? Did you get naked? I told you not to do that.”
“Dad, I have never gotten naked in front of a customer.”
I don’t add that this statement would have changed in the instance of Ryan Pierce inviting me inside—the fantasy in Lisa’s brain wasn’t an unpleasant one. I also didn’t add that Ryan had been naked underneath that towel, which was the reason for my lapse in judgment in the first place.
My father leans in, his eyes suspicious. “I’ve never seen a two-hundred-dollar tip for a single pizza, and I’ve been in the business for a long time.”
“The smiley face must have impressed his girlfriend.”
My dad doesn’t look convinced, but he sits back down and resumes counting bills. He’s a bottom-line sorta guy, so as long as I’m not breaking the law or taking my clothes off, he doesn’t ask many questions.
CHAPTER 6
Andi
“How?” Angela’s hair is done up in two Mickey Mouse-style buns, and I think she’s sprayed glitter on her head because I inhale a whiff of dust when I lean close. “Another smiley face pizza? This is the second one in two weeks.”
A week has passed since my run-in with Ryan Pierce, and the memory is still hot in my mind, along with my embarrassment. “We’ve got to take that off the menu.”
“Agreed. Too much rainbow-farting-unicorn bullshit,” Angela mutters. Then she comprehends my words. “You think it’s Ryan Pierce…again? Your dad took the call and didn’t get a name.”
I shrug, remembering the sounds of passion I’d nearly interrupted last week. “Maybe he goes through a girl every few days, and this is his routine.”
“I hope so,” my dad calls from across the room. “He’s good for business. Throw in a free side of breadsticks and a soda, understood? Whatever this man wants, he gets.”
“Loud and clear,” Angela mumbles.
“Apparently my dad can be bought for a two-hundred-dollar tip,” I say, shooting her an apologetic look. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, I’m just disappointed you get all the action.”
“There was no action—not for me, I mean.”
“All I’m saying is that if Ryan Pierce wanted me, I’d lay myself out for him,” Angela says. “Dinner on the house.”
The phone rings, and I grab it. “Hello?”
“Hey, is this Andi?” The smooth, masculine voice says my name like a song, and my ovaries explode instantly. “This is Ryan calling about the pizza. I forgot to ask—”