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      While Sara swiped Mike’s card, he looked at Dom, lifting his brows in what was supposed to be a guy-bonding moment. Dom ignored it. He wasn’t sure why he was irritable. Mike was a good guy. They’d competed in track.

      As Sara handed him back his card, Mike grinned. “You made that paper a decent read,” he said. “Much better than Billy Calabrini.”

      “Thanks. That’s nice of you, but if you’ll excuse me. I have to—” She nodded her chin in the direction of the kitchen and drifted toward the prep counter.

      Mike’s grin faded with every step she took. But that didn’t stop him from eyeing how those worn jeans cupped her ass. “Well, can’t win ’em all,” he said. He turned for the door. “Later.”

      “Yeah, later.” Of course Dom had been checking her out also. But that was different. He took a sip of his soda, then got out his wallet when he saw Sara packing up his order. He put cash on the counter, then a tip in the jar. Like always. When she came with his stuff, he smiled—not as enthusiastically as Mike had. “You never asked me to write for the paper.”

      “Mike volunteered,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

      “I didn’t know that was an option.”

      “It was,” she said, as she stared at his soda. A moment later, he watched her add the cost to his bill before she rang it up. “Besides, as I recall, you were always too busy.”

      “Uh-oh. I think I must have done something to you back in school.”

      She didn’t answer at first, just stared down. “What do you mean?”

      “Charging for the soda?” he said, joking. Trying to get her to lighten up. Maybe she’d caught him checking her out and was pissed. “I mean, I’m happy to pay for it, but...”

      Ellie rushed over to her sister’s side and bumped Sara’s shoulder. “I’m sure you never did anything bad to her. She’s just been gone too long and doesn’t know the routine anymore.”

      Dom smiled, trying to figure out the expression on Sara’s face. Was she really annoyed about the buck seventy-five, or was this about something else? He hadn’t seen Sara in years and—

      Jesus. The long-ago memory flashed like lightning through his brain. How could he have forgotten? This wasn’t about anything Dom had done to her. It had been the other way around. As the editor of the school paper, Sara had practically eviscerated him in an op-ed piece, and he’d never been more insulted in his entire life.

      “I know the routine,” Sara told her sister. “I’ve worked here more years than you.”

      “Sara,” Ellie said, her voice a little condescending. “Not now, okay?”

      Sara glared at her. “I don’t remember Dad saying anything ever about giving out freebies. And surely Mr. Hotshot can afford to pay for it.”

      Ellie, looking shocked and embarrassed, cleared her throat. “I’ll just charge the order to your family account, okay?” Then she spun around on Sara and in a hushed voice muttered, “What is your problem?”

      Dom could still hear, though, and clearly this was the perfect opening. He could’ve taken the high road—after all, they’d been kids. But with her acting like this? “Ellie, why don’t you ask Sara about the article she wrote my last year at Loyola?” he said, gathering his order and holding Sara’s gaze captive.

      She should’ve looked embarrassed. Maybe even blushed. Not look as if she wanted to give him a third nostril.

      “Yeah?” she said with an accusing smile. “And ask Dom what he said about—” She stopped short and blinked. “Never mind.”

      “Go ahead,” he said, honestly drawing a blank. “About what? I’d like to hear this.”

      Her inhale was sharp, and her cheeks flushed dark pink. Without a word she turned around and disappeared into the kitchen.

       2

      “UM, SORRY, DOM,” Ellie said, “Sara’s...she’s, uh, been kind of crazy working on her thesis. Lots of late nights and all. So, uh, she probably didn’t mean anything.”

      Sara listened from behind the wall separating the kitchen from the front counter area. God, what a coward, letting her kid sister take the heat. Although she hadn’t asked Ellie to make excuses for her.

      “Yeah, I’m sure she didn’t,” Dom said. “See you later, Ellie.”

      Sara took a quick peek and watched him balance the container of ziti on the two pizza boxes. As soon as he paused and turned his head toward the kitchen, she ducked back out of sight.

      “I’ll get the door for you,” Ellie said, and hurried out from behind the counter.

      Waiting until she heard the bell over the door, Sara closed her eyes, grateful Dom was gone. Of course he’d remembered what she had written about him. But why she’d risen to the bait in such a humiliating way made her sick. She should have just ignored him, pretended she didn’t know what he was talking about. It had happened ten years ago. He wouldn’t have pursued the topic. He would’ve just left, and she’d still have a little dignity.

      “What the heck was that about?” Ellie asked, her voice so indignant it made Sara jerk back to look at her.

      “Why did you give him the free soda?” Sara brushed past her, remembering at the last second to grab a clean rag, as if anyone would believe she’d disappeared for any reason but the obvious.

      “We never charge him.”

      “You’re joking, right? Is this just for Dom, or for every guy you have a crush on?”

      “It has nothing to do with me having a crush on him. And who says I do, anyway?”

      Sara rolled her eyes and put some elbow grease into wiping off the tables.

      “I only give free soda to Dom,” Ellie said, glaring, her face blotchy. “Jeannette does it, too. So do the others.”

      “For God’s sake, why?” Sara stopped and glared back. “Because he’s hot?”

      “I—we—give him free sodas because he’s a very good customer.”

      “We have a lot of good customers. I can’t believe you just give him free stuff. What’s next? Pizzas on the house because his smile is pearly white?”

      Ellie’s hands went to her hips, and she gave Sara a look that reminded her of how they used to argue over their single bathroom sink. “Because he always leaves good tips.”

      “Enough to make up for the loss in soda?”

      “Why don’t you take a look, smart-ass?”

      That was new.

      Ellie got the tip jar and pulled out a twenty. “This is what he leaves for a big order. For a slice, he leaves five dollars. Minimum. Every time.”

      Sara knew what the markup was on soda. And leaving that kind of tip each time he came in actually did make up for those freebies, and then some. She hadn’t expected that. “Okay, so he likes playing big shot and throwing his money around. Fine. Let him.”

      Ellie kept staring. “I can’t believe how horrible you were to him. What did you write in the paper?”

      “Nothing. We were kids. Look, I lost my temper. I’m tired and I saw you treating him like he was king of the neighborhood, and it pissed me off, okay?” Sara had regretted the big shot remark—and just about everything else—even before she saw the disappointment in her sister’s eyes. “I’m sorry, El. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

      Ellie gave her a halfhearted nod. Probably more than Sara deserved, so she smiled back.

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