“So what are we thinking? Sandwiches? Pasta?” I asked.
“Matthew,” Nikki tried to sound patient and failed.
“Pizza!” Jessie said.
I pointed at her. “Yes. Antonia’s! Get the menu.”
Nikki sighed as Jessie leaped from her chair to dash into Jen’s office and grab one of the many takeout menus from the collection.
“Check the deals!” I yelled.
Nikki folded her arms and began to drum her fingers on her arm, fixing me in a death stare. She was quite good at it since she was, well, dead, but it didn’t faze me.
She started all this, after all. I could’ve just had the box and taken it home with me to discover the hat on Christmas, as intended. Now the time I would normally spend freaking out about it is explaining the first step in how I ended up with it. How mad is she going to be when I tell her there’s more than just this story?
“Jessie, no garlic bread! We have a guest.”
“We’ll survive. Go for the meat lovers.” To Nikki I said, “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“I’m about to become very carnivorous.”
Jessie bounded in with Jen’s laptop, and the webpage for Antonia’s. “We can order online,” she grinned.
“A fine idea, so, where was I? Right, the garage. . . .”