Page 9 of All's Fair in Love and Pizza
“Maybe. I haven’t decided.” My lips quirked. “But seriously, Coach will be there. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”
“If he wanted to see me, he’d eat more pizza.”
I shook my head in wonder. “Asshole-itis is a real condition, huh?”
“Sorry. I was on a roll.” Mateo winced sheepishly and crossed his arms. “It would be nice to see Coach. It’s been a while.”
“He looks good,” I said conversationally. “I thought he’d be retired by now, but he says he’s got a couple of years in him.”
“I think that has more to do with the freshman QB who just transferred to Haverton. I heard the kid’s got an amazing arm.”
“Better than yours?”
Mateo squinted as if giving the question some thought. “Nah. Not that good.”
I chuckled. “I didn’t think so.”
His smile was a reluctant lopsided upturn of lips, but it was pure sunshine. If he hadn’t motioned for me to return his box cutter, I might have been caught drooling ’cause damn it, Mateo really was that stunning.
I handed him the box cutter with an up nod.
“Later, Vilmer.”
“I…later.”
I watched Mateo hop the back steps to Boardwalk Pizza, half confused and half turned-on. I wasn’t sure, but I think we’d wordlessly agreed to be, dare I say it—friendly. That was good.As for the turned-on part—well, that just meant I had a healthy libido.
And bad taste.
I’d have to work on that, I mused, whistling as I headed inside.
5
MATEO
The construction next door was done. Finally!
A whole summer of pounding on walls, grinding saws, and endless delivery vans later, I had to admit the bagel shop looked good.
The logo on the new black awning was sophisticated and the contemporary lighting, refurbished tile flooring, and the steel-and-glass cases were classy as fuck. And the smell of fresh bagels was mighty pleasant first thing in the morning.
And as my mom reminded me, “Any new business in town brings new customers our way.”
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
The invite to the soft-opening soiree arrived on an ordinary Tuesday in September. It was one of those fancy engraved numbers with thick paper I associated with weddings. And get this…it was for Friday night—the busiest night of the week for us. What were they thinking? People ate bagels in the morning. No one wanted a bagel at six p.m., but I wasn’t gonna miss this. I needed to know what we were up against.
I left Vanni and Jimmy in charge of the store and traded my apron and red-checked shirt for a black V-neck sweater anda nice pair of jeans. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but I figured I should step up my game.
And I could tell this was a bougie event. A cascade of balloons framed the front door, and jazz music drifted from the speakers as waiters circled the room, passing out flutes of champagne and bagel-ish canapes.
I nodded to an acquaintance as I plucked a glass of bubbly from a tray along with a cream-cheese-and-lox everything bagel bite dusted with caviar. Holy crap, it was tasty. I grabbed another, then moved on to a feta-and-cucumber combo garnished with delicately shaved red onion that should have been gross but was equally amazing.
I mingled amongst the guests as I feasted on a variety of interesting concoctions, not one of them resembling a piece of pizza. Good. My ego had taken a beating over the past few years, and this minor concession felt like a win.
And since Rob the football hero had made an effort to be cool, I could do the same.
I spotted him at the far end of the shop, chatting with Coach Malveney and his wife and Amber.
