Page 46 of A Slice of Love

“Thank you for calling Slice. This is Drew, how can I help you?”

“Hi, Drew, it’s me again.”

I hear a soft laugh. “Hey, Frankie. Want your usual?”

My face heats because I know she knows there’s a reason for me ordering so much.

“Yes, please. Can, uh, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.” There’s a loud ruckus in the background on her end of the line, and Drew sighs heavily. “Mother of—Winston Daniels! I swear to all things holy, I am going to put my entire foot up your giant ass!”

“Quit looking at my ass, Woods!”

“That’s it—I’m killing you now. Frankie, I’ll put your order in. Give us fifteen and we’ll have it there.”

The line goes dead, just like Winston is about to be.

Laughing, I toss my cell aside and retrieve my charcoal pencil—my medium of the week—rolling it through my fingers and staring down at the piece I’m currently working on.

There’s something familiar about the face I’m drawing, but I can’t place it.

I let my fingers continue to work anyway, trying to quiet the voices in my head.

Last night, I had my weekly dinner with my parents. To say it was a disaster would be an understatement.

My mom asked if I had been up to anything fun lately, so I told her about going out with Julian and Jonas. The moment I said his name, the wine glass that was perched in her hand went crashing to the floor.

My father didn’t speak to me for the rest of the night.

It was strange, and it didn’t strengthen my argument of my father is innocent.

I’m so lost in my mind, I nearly throw my sketchpad across the room when the doorbell chimes.

“Son of a holy shit, Batman!”

There’s a chuckle on the other side of the door as I push myself up off the couch, tossing my pencil and pad onto the cushion beside me.

“Hey, Brad,” I say, pulling open the door and reaching into my clutch. “How you doing tonight?”

“Two things. One, ‘son of a holy shit, Batman’? I’ve never heard that one before. Two, I am most definitely not Brad.”

My lips pop open. “Jonas?”

“In the flesh.”

“I-I-I…” I clear my throat and push my shoulders back. “I wasn’t expecting you. It’s usually Brad.”

“Usually, huh? Have you been ordering from Slice a lot?”

Red rushes into my cheeks. “No more than normal,” I lie.

“Whatever you say.” He grins wolfishly, and I love the way his smile sits against his beard. “I’ve got a pie for ya. Drew also threw in an order of cheese sticks as an apology for Winston’s behavior.”

“She’s the best.”

“She’s something, that’s for sure.”

Cue awkward silence.

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