Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
“I…yeah.”
“I gotta say, your bagel shop going viral like this has made you even more popular in retirement. Who’d have thunk it?”
Bill’s wheezy laughter echoed in my ears long after our call ended.
Fuck. What had I done?
It only got worse.
“Honey, you’re on the news!” My mother chirped at far-too-early o’clock the next morning. “What’s going on out there? I feel like I’m missing out. You made it sound like your bake-off was a provincial little contest, but you’re Internet famous!”
“I…” I glanced at my watch and up at the still dark sky. “Mom, it’s six a.m. and I’m under caffeinated. What are you talking about?”
“Your bake-off with the pizzeria. Check the family text thread, Robbie. Gwen posted an adorable photo of you in an apron with a very handsome man. That’s the pizza guy? No one at our local Pizza Shack looks like that!”
“I—”
“And Katie and Darren said they saw you on ESPN at a Haverton game. She says the pic was from your Instagram and that you have close to a million followers now. A million! My goodness, Robbie, tell me everything!”
My sisters called later to weigh in on the pizza-bagel war and Dad dug out a few ancient photos of me at my grandfather’s store. Maybe you can use these on the TikTok?
It’s not THE TikTok, Gwen razzed our dad. Just TikTok.
He sent her a video of a kid blowing raspberries and started a gif war.
I turned my phone off and peeked into the store and—holy crap! There was a line out the door.
Amber beamed. “Social media madness at work! At this rate, we’ll run out of bagels and have to close early. Did you see Boardwalk Pizza? I hate to admit it, but their line might be longer.”
I marched into the store, unthinking, and was immediately surrounded by patrons hoping for a selfie or an autograph. It took another fifteen minutes to retreat and sneak into the alley and—
I stopped in my tracks at the sight of Sal and Mateo seated on the stoop, puffing on cigarettes. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
Mateo took a drag. “Only in times of extreme stress.”
Sal exhaled a stream of smoke and nodded. “Busy is good, but this is fucking insane. We had to call in for backup. If Gino fucks up my oven, I’m gonna be pissed.”
“He’s not gonna fuck it up. Chill out and…I dunno, go home for a couple of hours,” Mateo advised.
“Now? It’s lunchtime!” Sal shook his head. “I’ve been doing this my whole life and I’ve never seen it like this. Our dads would be amazed. Remember the fourth of July when Pops and Uncle Mario were out celebrating record sales with a bottle of Johnnie Walker?”
Mateo snickered. “They were so fucked up.”
“You talkin’ about the cartwheel contest?” Jimmy banged the screen door behind him as he stepped outside.
“Yeah, yeah. What are you doin’ out here? We got a full house. They need you!” Sal griped.
“Ma and Aunt Therese brought more help and told me to take a hike. We need a break if we’re doin’ this again at dinner time.” Jimmy gave me an up nod in greeting. “I wish we had bagel hours. This celebrity pizza shit is killin’ my social life.”
“Can you close early?” I asked, zipping my jacket.
“No way. Gotta ride it while it’s hot.” Mateo stubbed out his cigarette and bumped my elbow as he stood.
I caught his mischievous smile and fuck, my pulse skittered on cue.
“They’ll forget about us in a week,” Sal predicted.
“Maybe not.” Vanni pushed the door open, carrying a football under his arm. “We could be like pizza influencers, ya know?”
“There’s no such thing as pizza influencers,” Sal huffed.
“The fuck there isn’t.” Jimmy motioned for Vanni to throw him the ball. “There’s influencers for everything. Gelato, cookies, cupcakes…”
“Gelato? Get outta here.”
“It’s true, Cuz,” Mateo agreed. “Pass it to me. Rob, go long.”
I jogged down the alley and caught the ball just as Amber joined us.
“Whoa. Is there a party out here?” She slipped gloves on her hands and glanced from the Cavaretti cousins to me.
Vanni grinned. “Now there is! Tell me you brought the tequila.”
“I run a bagel shop, not a bar,” she retorted. “Throw me the ball, Robbie.”
I obeyed, chuckling as Amber whooped gleefully, waving her arms above her head.
And right then and there, I was overwhelmed with a sense of belonging. What had started as a rivalry of sorts had blossomed into something I hadn’t known I needed—a team, a community. I met Mateo’s gaze and smiled.
“You holdin’ up okay?” he asked, sidling close.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and nodded. “Yeah, you?”
“Eh, I’m tired. I think I like your bed better.”
“And this is where you tell me it’s nothing personal, it’s my mattress,” I deadpanned.
Mateo bumped my elbow. “Mine’s not so bad. We can try it out later tonight. Want to come over for dinner? I’ll heat up my mom’s Bolognese.”