Law Man (Dream Man #3)(10)

“I don’t know,” I hedged.

“Make him pizza,” she urged.

“Really, Roberta, I’m not sure,” I told her.

“Make him pizza,” she pushed. “You aren’t pledging your troth. You’re making a nice, handsome guy pizza. So you drop barbeque sauce on your shirt. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.” She squeezed my hand. “What would be the end of the world is if you stuck yourself in that apartment with your candles and music, having LaTanya over for Glee, going over to B and B’s for tarot card nights, coming to my place for action movie marathons and that was it in your life. No risks. No chances. Nothing that made your heart beat faster. Nothing that made your toes curl. Nothing that was exciting. Nothing that gave you a thrill. That, honey…” she gave me another hand squeeze, “would be the end of the world.”

“I don’t need a thrill or not that kind of thrill. That kind of thrill is not for the likes of me,” I explained and her face turned funny as she looked at me.

“Everyone needs that kind of thrill, Mara, and I don’t understand what you mean ‘the likes of you’. The likes of you should be having those kinds of thrills all the time. Honestly, I’ve wondered. LaTanya has wondered. B and B have wondered. Even Mr. Pierson wonders why you aren’t living a thrill a minute.”

I didn’t understand what she was saying but explaining to her what the likes of me meant was explaining to her my One to Ten Classification System. I didn’t want to do that, especially explaining where I felt I came in on the scale. I’d learned not to share this information because friends who cared about you always tried to talk you into believing you were so far up that scale it was unreal. My oldest friend Lynette, who still lived back in Iowa, was the only person I’d told about my system. She even tried to talk me into believing I topped the scale at Mitch’s rank of Ten Point Five. She was convinced of it and tried to convince me. I knew she was wrong and I knew she was convinced of this because she liked me. I liked her too. She was a definite Eight Point Five. When she was in a good mood and her sunny disposition shone even more brightly, she soared up to a Nine Point Five so she had nothing to worry about.

I couldn’t wander around in a daze of thinking I was in another league which meant making the mistake of making a move toward someone out of my league. This, as I mentioned, only led to a broken heart.

Therefore, I didn’t explain because friends could be convincing. That was why I got messed up with Destry who had the looks of a Seven but was a Five Point Five since he was a jackass. Friends could be very convincing. I’d been convinced of other things due to friends. Some of them good, like when Lynette talked me into getting the hell out of Iowa and away from my crazy mother. Some of them bad, case in point Destry.

Because I couldn’t tell Roberta this, I gave in on the pizza. Since Mitch had moved in, I had managed to go from nearly fainting every time I saw him to being able to say good morning. I’d survived him in my place being nice and teasing me. Perhaps I could have pizza with him. Maybe if he came to another one of Brent and Bradon’s parties or LaTanya’s cocktail extravaganzas, I could chit chat with him before escaping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Because of this I went to the grocery store after work, got the ingredients for the pizza, two bottles of red, two bottles of white and two six packs (one of fancy beer, one of good old American beer) so Mitch would have choice. Friday morning I set the chicken to marinade and Saturday morning I went back out to the grocery store so the salad fixings would be fresh.

* * * * *

And that brought me to now. The salad in the fridge, the beer and white wine chilled. I was staring at a prize winning pizza that, after twenty minutes in the oven, would be a pizza feast fit for a king.

* * * * *

I slid the pizza in my fridge, turned on the oven in preparation for baking, grabbed my phone, hit the three for speed dial and Bradon picked up.

“Hey girl, what’s shakin’?” he asked, having caller ID on his phone and knowing it was me.

“Can you do me a favor, look out your window and tell me if Mitch’s SUV is there?”

I heard silence before I heard Bradon ask, “Why?”

“He fixed my faucet and payback is me making him barbeque chicken pizza and the pizza is ready. I just want to check if he’s there before I go over and knock.”

I heard more silence then, “You made him your pizza?”

“He asked for it.”

I heard even more silence then on a shout, “Brent! Get this! Mara made her barbeque chicken pizza for Mitch. He fixed her faucet. He’s going over there tonight for pizza!”

Ohmigod!

B and B lived right across from Mitch! He might be able to hear Bradon shout.

“You’re joking!” I heard Brent shout back then I heard a closer to the phone shout of, “Excellent!”

“Bray!” I hissed. “Stop shouting!”

“I love this,” Bradon said in my ear.

“I love it too!” I heard Brent shout.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it’s cool and because it’s about time. I don’t know what your deal is, girl, but he is hot. I was a girl and I was straight, I would have made my move a long time ago,” Bradon told me.

“This isn’t a move. This is a thank you pizza,” I informed him.