1

      ELLIE, SARA MORETTI’S little sister, hung up the phone and twirled around as if she’d just won the lottery. “The Paladinos want their regular order,” she called back into the kitchen. “Two large, one pepperoni, one veggie, one order of ziti.” She turned to Sara, her smile so broad it must have hurt. “I think Dom’s coming to pick it up.”

      Dom.

      The tray slipped out of Sara’s hands and bounced on the linoleum floor with a loud clang.

      Laughing, Ellie scooped it up for her. “Butterfingers.”

      Jeanette stuck her head out from the kitchen. “Everyone okay?”

      “Fine.” Sara took the tray from her sister and went straight to the sink to wash it.

      She hadn’t thought about Dominic Paladino in a long while. And clearly she couldn’t afford to think about him now. Her pulse had ratcheted up. Her heart was trying out for the gymnastics team, and so was her stomach.

      The last time she’d seen him was right there at Moretti’s Pizza Parlor the day before she’d left for George Washington University, seven years ago. He’d been sitting at a table with two of his jock friends, his dark hair slicked back, his damp T-shirt straining across his broad shoulders and clinging to his lightly muscled chest. They’d just come from a soccer game after trampling their opponents, a team from the next block over. Sara had hid in the back while Jeanette waited on their table.

      She glanced around, wondering what Ellie was up to. Was she staring? Had she already moved on? Of course she had. To her, Sara had dropped a tray. That’s all. Ellie didn’t know about Sara’s long-ago crush on Dom, or what he’d said to shatter her young heart into a million pieces. No one had known about any of it because Sara had kept it to herself. Sort of... Years later she’d let her temper get the better of her and made a mistake that had cost her more than she could’ve imagined.

      Ellie was checking on her table and laughing with the customers, so Sara relaxed. The place had barely changed. The old redbrick walls still looked as if they’d been put together by a bunch of drunks, the family-style tables still had red-checkered cloths, although she’d hoped they’d been replaced.

      But it was home, and although she’d made more money serving cocktails in Washington, DC, in one night than she’d make here in a week, she was glad to be back in Little Italy.

      “Bet you’re surprised Dom is still here,” Jeanette said from behind her.

      “I hadn’t really thought about it.” She shrugged. “I guess I figured he’d be living out in Hollywood or someplace.”

      “Nah,” Jeannette said, staring at the tray. Probably wondering if Sara had washed the aluminum off by now. The woman wasn’t related by blood, but she’d been working there for over twenty years, so she was practically a Moretti. “The whole family’s been sticking close to home since the old man had a second heart attack.”

      “Second? Oh, that’s too bad,” Sara said, meaning it. She’d known the Paladinos since she was a little kid. Her mom and Dom’s mom had been friends since childhood, but Sara mostly knew them from church.

      Jeanette smiled. “Joe’s a tough old bird.”

      “I’m surprised my mom didn’t mention it.”

      Jeanette took the tray to dry it. In a hushed voice she asked, “If Dom comes in, are you gonna hide in the back?”

      Sara looked at her and laughed. “I was a shy nerd back then. Let him try pissing me off now.”

      Jeanette chuckled. “I might pay to see that.”

      “Who are you talking about?” Ellie popped up out of nowhere.

      “No one you know,” Sara said, drying her hands.

      “Bet I do.”

      “Then let me rephrase. None of your business.”

      Jeanette grinned and shook her head.

      Ellie huffed, grabbed some napkins and went back to her table.

      Up until ninth grade Sara had gone to an all-girls Catholic school and hadn’t seen much of Dom. But that had in no way stopped her from having a major crush on him, just like most of the girls in her class. Hell, the whole school. Every guy had wanted to be Dom, and all the girls had wanted him.

      “His brother Tony’s getting married,” Ellie said, joining them behind the counter again.

      “Whose brother?”

      “Excuse me, ladies,” Jeanette said with a little smile. “Gotta go back to the kitchen before Carlo starts yelling.”

      “Dom.” Ellie stared at Sara as if she’d finally lost her last brain cell.

      “Oh, of course. Silly me.”

      Ellie ignored the sarcasm. “I wonder if Dom is going to be the best man. Can you imagine him in a tux?”

      “Oh, sweetie,” Sara said, not surprised, really. “Tell me you don’t have a thing for that guy. For God’s sake, he’s a year older than me, and you think I’m the Crypt Keeper.”

      “You’re almost thirty.” Lifting her chin, Ellie left to go wipe down table five, where a gang of slobs, also known as high school kids, had left their mark everywhere from the tablecloth to the floor.

      “I’m twenty-seven, thank you. But I believe I’ve made my point.”

      Ellie sighed. “Have you met any seventeen-year-old boys? They’re disgusting.”

      “You think that changes when they turn twenty-eight?”

      “He’s hot. And he doesn’t look old.” Ellie’s cheeks got splotchy. Poor kid had a blush like a rash. Although she was so pretty it didn’t really make a difference. With her waist-length brown hair and her big green eyes, she was the beauty of the family.

      Sara had been the brainy one, but all that had gotten her was an almost-completed master’s degree and a load of student debt.

      “So, I assume he’s still single?” Sara said, and got another funny look from Ellie. “Since you’re shamelessly mooning over him.”

      Her sister broke out in laughter. “Mooning? Jeez, Sara, you sound like Nonna.”

      Sara came out from behind the counter and snatched a pair of salt-and-pepper shakers that needed refilling. “Don’t change the subject.”

      “What, like you did when I asked about you and Robert?”

      “Oh, my God. Why did I come back here?” Sara heard a call from the kitchen and she went to get the order ready for the Cho family. Chinatown pretty much surrounded Little Italy now. Most of their customers lived there, or in Nolita or SoHo. At least people still kept coming to their place, even if they had other pizza joints closer. Thank goodness they kept getting those “Best in New York” awards.

      Not that they were making a lot of money. Enough to keep up with the cost of living, but that was about it. Fortunately, their rent was still amazingly cheap, so they weren’t about to make any changes. What would her parents do if they didn’t run this place? As the sign above the marquee proudly proclaimed, Moretti’s had been in the family since 1931.

      She thought about Robert as she sliced the large Sicilian pie, then closed the box. He’d been in Rome for two months now, and while they talked two or three times a week, she wasn’t quite sure where