Page 31 of Mr. B

“With a glass frog?”

“It was that or a collage made up of his losing lottery tickets.”

Chapter eight

“It’s a real possibility.”

Wes tossed the pizza dough into the air, causing a dusting of flour to filter down onto his arms. He caught it, spun it, then tossed it again. Abe came up beside him. “Don’t look now, because you’ll probably drop the dough on the floor, but the wicked ex is keeping a close eye on you tonight.”

Wes dropped the dough onto a pan, pressed the warm, stretchy dough to the edges, then slid it toward Abe. “Perhaps she’s just interested in the art of tossing dough.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“And…don’t call her that.”

“Got it.”

The restaurant was completely full, with more people waiting outside for takeout orders. Gentry picked up three large pizza boxes. “A little less talking and a little more filling orders.”

Abe saluted. “Yes, sir, boss.” He nudged Wes. “Our brother turns into a drill sergeant when it gets busy like this.” He wiped his forehead with a towel. “I’m ready to switch jobs. I’m about to melt into a puddle of…I don’t know. Something unpleasant.”

Wes looked out at the crowd. “Has it ever been busy like this?”

“Hmm. I guess not.” He checked the bins on the prep counter. “I need to refill the pepperoni. Keep that dough coming.”

“The walk-in will cool you off a little.”

Abe headed for the walk-in, and Cassandra came up to the counter in front of Wes. “You’ve obviously worked here before.”

“On and off. When they get desperate, they call me.”

“The students are sure enjoying seeing you back there.”

“It was your idea.”

“I have a good one once in a while.”

The room was buzzing with the sounds of various conversations, and Wes had to speak loudly to be heard over them. “You seem to be holding your own out there.”

“I’m having fun. Hectic, a little confusing, but fun. I haven’t dropped, spilled, or delivered the wrong pizza.”

Maggie came up with two orders. “Two more with pepperoni.” She handed Wes the order tickets. “I’m so glad we limited it to two kinds of pizza.”

Wes glanced at Cassandra. “Yeah. It saved us.” He looked at the customers again. “But I never expected this kind of turnout.”

“It’s crazy.”

Cassandra smiled. “I guess I’ll get back to it.”

Bailey was sitting at one of the tables with some friends. Wes hadn’t had any more meetings with her, and he hadn’t spoken with Cassandra again about her daughter’s college choices. But Bailey was smiling and talking with her mother, so all must be well in the Jordan household.

Wes picked up another ball of dough and flattened it, then began stretching it. Three of the varsity football players came up to the counter. “Hey, Mr. B. Looking good back there.”

“Good evening, boys. Have you ordered a pizza yet?”

“No, sir. But we’re about to. We’re going to squeeze in over there with the cheerleaders.”

“Are they aware of that plan?”