One Night More by Clara Bayard Read Free Book Online Page B

but I needed it all to go away, if just for a little while.
    Without thinking about it consciously I'd driven to the south side of the city. When I noticed, I smiled. I couldn't go back to my apartment, but I could go somewhere else that felt like home. I found a space a few blocks away and practically ran down to the pizza place.
    When I opened the door the familiar sweet and sharp smells covered me in a blanket of nostalgia. The place was busy with late lunch customers and I had to shove my way through the crowd to get to the counter.
    I hadn't so much as opened my mouth before Angelo, owner of the pizza place and my old boss, bellowed across the shop. "Carly Chase, light of my life!"
    I grinned broadly and genuinely. It was good to be home. "Don't let your wife hear you talking like that."
    He let out a hoot of laughter and swept across the shop to come and hug me. He was an adorably round man, short and well-padded in his mid-section. For the first year I worked there I thought he was a real old-fashioned south side Italian, but one night after a few too many glasses of wine with the customers, he admitted the truth.
    "Angelo" was actually Andrew. He was born and raised in the suburbs of Atlanta and came north to find his fortune after his mother died. He'd used all his savings to buy the pizza place and kept the name. Over the years he stopped correcting people when they assumed he was Angelo. And then after his new bride gave him one of those silly fat chef figurines, he grew out his moustache, started eating a second dessert every night, and assumed the whole look.
    He thought I'd be annoyed at his real history, but it charmed me. There was something appealing about remaking yourself, becoming something new, something better. Especially after having my shameful past thrown in my face, the idea was even more attractive.
    So, back in the present, I hugged Angelo tight.
    He stepped back and kissed me on both cheeks before frowning at me. "My darling, you're too skinny. Come sit down in the back. Let me feed you before you waste away to nothing."
    It's silly, but that was the other thing about Angelo. Anyone under two-hundred-fifty pounds was emaciated to him. As a chubby high school student it had been worth a lot more than the free pizza and tiny wage that working there got me.
    "No, no," I protested. "I'm just here to visit. You've got a lot of customers."
    "Pardon my French, but fuck 'em. Come on." He dragged me through the now laughing crowd back to what he called the "chef's table," a rickety folding table and two chairs in the corner between the counter and the kitchen door. "Sit."
    I did, of course. There was no point arguing with the man when he was trying to feed you.
    Within minutes there was a pile of food in front of me enough for an army. And while the last thing I wanted to do was eat, the first bite of the house special pizza brought my appetite roaring back, and I dug in big time.
    Angelo sat with me for a little while before he went back into the kitchen. A few of the cooks and others who I'd worked with came by to say hello as well. There were even a couple regular customers who waved.
    With hands covered in sauce and lips burning from a taste of Anna's favorite calzone, I felt a million times better. I wondered why I ever left the place. Everything was simple and fun. No stress, no one threatening more than a small tip for late service.
    Thoughts of my current situation soured my stomach and I put down my fork.
    And then Sam walked into the restaurant. I saw him before he noticed me, and considered ducking into the kitchen. But if he'd found me here he'd find me back there too. It wasn't worth the hassle.
    "Howdy, stranger," I said wryly.
    "Carly." His face was dead serious."
    I looked up at him as he approached. "At least sit down to yell at me again."
    He sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. "I'm not here to yell."
    "No?"
    "No. I…I was going to leave you alone. We both needed time to cool