Page 101 of Mistletoe & Magic
By the time the pizzas come out, the house smells like heaven. We line them up on the island with pepperoni, margherita, white pizza with roasted garlic and spinach and everyone piles plates high.
Ivy and Rowan sit together, Rowan flipping through Ivy’s new books.
“You’ve got good taste,” Rowan says. “Where’d you get these?”
“Willa set them aside for me,” Ivy says.
Rowan sighs dramatically. “Lucky. I wish I had time to read. I’m trying to fight to get my permits so I can open. It’s been delayed and delayed again.”
I look up from slicing pizza. “What’s going on with your permits?”
Rowan’s mouth twists. “Vanessa and Marilyn are holding them up at the town office.”
I frown. “Why?”
Rowan says. “They’re trying to open a rival Pilates studio, so they’re stalling me so they can launch first.”
“But you’ve got an apothecary. Yoga is just in the evenings and early mornings,” Ivy says. “Why do they care?”
“Because Marilyn has a thing for Finn,” Rowan says. “And she’s mad that we’re friends.”
“I thought they both had a thing for Remy,” Ivy says, then shoots me a sheepish look. “Tell you later,” she mouths.
I glance at Finn, who is very focused on his plate. “Oh, yeah?”
His ears turn red. “I don’t like Marilyn like that.”
“Mm-hmm,” Rowan says, smirking. But she does not look happy at all.
“I don’t,” Finn says again, more forceful this time. “And I definitely don’t like that she’s messing with your permits. This is personal now.”
Rowan looks pleased. “Good. Let’s burn them to the ground. Metaphorically.”
“Metaphorically,” Finn echoes, but there’s a gleam in his eye that says he is already plotting something.
I glance at Ivy. She’s watching them with interest that tells me she knows something is happening here, whether Rowan and Finn know it yet or not.
After dinner, Marco pulls out the tiramisu, and we eat until we can’t move. He insists we all take extra garlic bulbs as a parting gift. When he leaves, he claps me on the shoulder and says, “You have my approval, Remy. You make pizza like you do everything, with heart.”
It’s a silly thing to feel proud about, but I do.
“Thanks, Marco. You’re welcome anytime.”
“It’s not always I get to be the guest. Thank you.”
When the door shuts and the house goes quiet again, Ivy leans into me, warm and soft. “You had fun,” she says.
“I did,” I admit. “Even if I’m never forgiving Finn.”
She grins. “It was worth it. And hey, you impressed Marco. That’s basically a Wisteria Cove culinary endorsement.”
I laugh and kiss her, because she’s right, and because her hair smells like garlic and rosemary and home.
Junie yawns wide and announces that pizza night is the best night of the week. I carry her to bed while Ivy tidies the kitchen, and when I come back, Rowan and Finn are by the door pulling on their coats, still bickering about Marilyn and Vanessa and what to do about the permits.
“We could stage a protest,” Rowan is saying.
Finn snorts. “We could just go talk to Jace at the permit office like sane people.”
