The Parent Trap(8)
“You won’t be disappointed. Paolo’s pizzas are incredible. Best in the world, according to my daughter.”
“Sarah!” A middle-aged man in a white chef’s apron waved at her from the other side of the pass-through. “Your pizzas will be outta the oven in a coupla minutes.”
“Thanks, Paolo.” She set her handbag on the counter and pulled out her wallet. “I always call ahead,” she said. “Casey and I have pizza and watch a movie together every Saturday night.”
Something akin to envy washed over him. Saturday movie-and-pizza sounded like the kind of routine a family should have, although his never had.
The woman who’d been clearing tables approached the counter. “Sarah, good to see you. How’s your beautiful daughter? She is getting ready to go back to school, yes?”
“We’re all set, Maria. This is her first year of high school so she’s excited and a little nervous, too.”
“Tell her she has nothing to worry about. That girl of yours, she can do anything.”
“That’s sweet. Speaking of high school, I’d like to introduce my neighbor. This is Jonathan Marshall, the new teacher at Serenity Bay High. Jonathan’s daughter is the same age as Casey.”
Maria’s scrutiny was intense. “You live next door to our Sarah? This is good, yes?”
There was no mistaking the suggestive sparkle in those dark eyes, and he didn’t have to look at Sarah to know her self-consciousness matched his.
“Paolo!” Maria angled her head in the direction of the kitchen. “This is the new teacher.”
“Benvenuti to Serenity Bay! You like it here, no? And for you today we give you your first pizza on the house.”
“Oh, no,” Jon said, taken aback by the unexpected display of generosity. “That’s not necessary.”
“Si, si.” Maria wiped her hands on a towel. “Any pizza you like. You a teacher, you work hard. That’s good, yes?” It was more a statement than a question, and it was directed at Sarah.
This time he did glance down to see her reaction, and he liked what he saw.
“Just you and your daughter? You are not married, yes?” Maria’s question was directed at him, although she hadn’t taken her eyes off Sarah.
Paolo’s leisurely amble out of the kitchen broke the tension. “Here you go. One for you and one for Casey,” he said, setting two extra-large pizza boxes on the counter in front of Sarah.
“You’re each going to eat a whole pizza?” The question slipped out before Jon could stop it, but Sarah simply laughed.
“Not all in one sitting.” Sarah handed her credit card to Maria. “We’ll save a couple of pieces for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Pizza for breakfast?”
“You’ve never had cold pizza for breakfast?”
He shook his head.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
And he could live with that.
“Here’s an idea,” Maria said. “You and Casey, you’re having pizza. And you are taking pizza home for your daughter, yes?”
He could see where this was going. Judging by Sarah’s reluctant nod, so could she.
“You all should have dinner together.” Maria waggled her finger from one to the other. “And your girls, they get to know each other, be good friends, yes?”
He liked the idea more than he had any right to.
Sarah tilted her head. Her eyes, more green than gray in this light, were serious but the creases at their corners hinted at an uncertain smile. He’d initially thought she was standoffish, even a little uppity. Not so, he realized. More on the shy side, and because of that she was going to say no way, not in his wildest dreams was he insinuating himself into her evening. He shouldn’t care but he did, because an evening in the company of another adult suddenly had a lot of appeal.
“It’s not a bad idea,” she said, the smile now real. “For the girls, I mean. And it’ll give you and your daughter a break from unpacking.”
Okay. Not the reaction he expected, but she was right. Getting his daughter out of the house, having her spend time with someone her own age, would be good for her. “Sure,” he said. “Your place? Mine’s still full of boxes.”
Maria and Paolo stood shoulder to shoulder on the other side of counter, each sporting a mile-wide grin.
“Buona idea.” Maria sounded surprised, as if the good idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was a sly one, Jon thought. He had a hunch he was going to like this woman and her husband, and their food, if the warm aroma wafting from Sarah’s pizza boxes was anything to go by.