Page 51 of Jon's Helter Skelter Cold Case

“So I was just doom scrolling for a bit while waiting on the coffee maker,” Donovan prefaced, still glancing at his phone. “And I stumbled across this list of ten fun and unusual weddings to have? I really like one of them. It is an indoor idea, though; I know we were going for outdoor.”

“Considering our approach to a typical wedding has not been working, I’m all ears.”

“Well, this one couple rented out a whole pizza joint. One of those upscale pizza places, and it had an arcade and everything in the back. Then they upped the fun factor by making it a costume party.”

I froze, overtaken by the image of my nearest and dearest dressed like sexy nurses and Batman while having the best pizza party of their lives. It was like being struck by the lightning of a good idea. “Oh my god.”

“See?! Isn’t it an awesome idea?”

“I love that so hard. Seriously, it would be a super kid friendly wedding that way, and we wouldn’t have to worry about people getting bored. And it’s casual enough people can just pop in and out without feeling obligated to stay the whole time.”

Donovan was not done yet; he was on a roll this morning. “I was thinking, what about Sammi’s?”

It made perfect sense as soon as he said it. We’d tried a new pizza place about three months ago. It was in one of those converted warehouses, looking all upscale and modern without being stuffy. Plus I thought there was a second floor to the place. “Didn’t it have retro videogame machines up on the second floor?”

“I think it does, or something like that.” Donovan looked pleased I liked the idea so much. “Want to swing by on our way to the interview and ask if we can even rent the place for an event?”

“Absolutely. Get breakfast done. I’ll be down in five minutes or less.”

I started soaping with more vigor. Had to get out quick. I had a good idea to explore and hopefully lock in.

Good to my word, I was shaved, dressed, and downstairs in five minutes flat. Donovan had made French toast and sausage for breakfast, which we ate quickly. I gave the cats a goodbye rub—they were lounging in their window cat tree, perfectly content to be lazy slobs the rest of the day—and then we were out the door.

The pizza parlor in question wasn’t too far away, but with Nashville morning traffic, it took us more than a hot minute to get there. It was a relief to finally arrive and find parking. Right until I realized it was eight in the morning and pizza parlors weren’t generally open at this time.

“Babe. We’re both dumbasses.”

Donovan gave me a confused look. “Eh?”

“It’s eight in the morning, are they even open yet?”

“Oh. Shit. I was so excited I didn’t think about the time. Uh, we can try calling? They might be here and doing prep work.”

Bless this man’s brains. “Call.”

I was parked right next to the building, so for the safety of his phone, Donovan hopped out and made the call. He tried to put distance between me and his phone when he could just to buy it a little more life. I couldn’t really hear him, but he lit up with a smile and waved me out, so it must have been good. I turned off the engine and met him on the sidewalk.

“I was right, they’re inside prepping dough right now. Owner said come to the door, he’ll let us in.”

“Awesome.”

I had a skip to my step as we headed to the door. I couldn’t help it, this was genuinely one of the most fun wedding ideas I’d heard of, and I reeeeaaaly hoped it panned out.

The owner was a short guy, with thick dark hair under a hairnet, a stained white apron on over jeans and a polo shirt, and happiness sparking in his lines.

“Hello, hello, I’m Sammi. Welcome.”

Italian, no question; his accent alone backed up what I was seeing in his lines. Well, that explained why the pizza was phenomenal.

I shook hands with him, knowing he’d be open to hosting a gay wedding and not worried about that. “Hello, Sammi. I’m Jon, and this is my fiancé, Donovan.”

He shook both of our hands, looking a touch intimidated by Donovan, but not overly so. “Hello. You said on the phone you wanted to rent my place for an event?”

“Well, we’re hoping we can rent it for our wedding, actually.” Donovan looked at me for some reason while he said this. “We want to do a costume pizza party for our wedding and we really love this place, so we’re hoping we can rent it for the day.”

Sammi’s dark brown eyes went saucer wide and he just about exploded into chihuahua levels of joy. Booty shake included.

“You wantmeto host your wedding?” He threw both hands into the air, saying something in Italian that sounded like a prayer of thanks, then paused us. “Hold on, hold on, I must tell the wife. WIFE!”

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