Page 22 of Proof
Wylie yawned and yapped a sound of approval. Three Brothers was one of the few places that allowed dogs to be tethered to outdoor tables. If people didn’t like it, they could go find pizza somewhere else, which wasn’t that easy to do. At least not really good, authentic pizza.
Cullen arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before Luna and snatched up the last available café table with a market umbrella. Apparently, several other dog owners had had the same idea. Or did the dogs telepathically communicate with their owners? Luna would surely go for that theory, Cullen thought.
With Wiley on a leash, Luna made her way to the table, carefully sidestepping a golden retriever, a boxer, a Yorkie, and a terrier. None of the dogs seemed to be bothered by the other dogs, or the other people, for that matter.
“Must be ‘Dogs Night Out’ at the pizzeria.” Luna grinned at the other diners as they nodded in agreement. She wrapped Wylie’s leash around the leg of a chair and sat down.
Cullen snickered. “I was just wondering if they passed the idea along to their owners telepathically.”
Luna cackled. “You are finally starting to get it.”
“Oh, I got it, alright. I just didn’t know what to do with ‘it.’” He used air quotes. “I ordered a pitcher of Blue Moon.”
“Great.”
“You don’t normally drink beer. What’s the occasion?”
She shrugged. “Variety is the spice of life, I guess.”
“Speaking of spices.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find the right ones to make an authentic Nigerian dinner for Chi-Chi.”
“I wouldn’t try experimenting if I were you, unless you ask her to help you prepare dinner.”
Cullen rubbed his chin. “That’s a thought. We could cook together.”
“Yep. That way, it’s still romantic, but doesn’t have the ‘will you marry me?’ vibe,” Luna replied. “So now you ask her if she’ll teach you one of her favorite dishes and bring the necessary spices and give you a list of the other ingredients.”
“Sometimes you are smarter than you look.” Cullen beamed and teased at the same time.
“I hope you’re not planning on auditioning for America’s Got Talent, because you are no comedian.”
Gorgio, the owner of the pizzeria, approached their table with a foaming pitcher of beer and two menus. “Buonasera, Luna,” he greeted her.
“Buonasera, Gorgio. Come stai?”
“Molto bene!” He grinned. “You are practicing your Italian.”
“Yes. That and ciao are my go-to phrases,” Luna joked.
“Cosa vorresti mangiare?” he asked.
“Not fair!” Luna grinned. “The only word I kinda recognized was mangiare.”
“Molto bene!” Gorgio made a slight bow. “You see? You can speak Italiana.”
“Well, okay then. I shall have pizza!” She leaned in. “Is pizza ‘pizza’ in Italian?”
Gorgio laughed. “Yes, we invented the pizza!”
Luna laughed in return. “I kinda knew that. I think I’ll have a personal pizza with some spinaci and extra mozzarella.” She used the Italian word for spinach and pronounced mozzarella like a true Italiana: moots-a-rell.
Gorgio turned to Cullen. “Your sister. She learns quick.”
Cullen was not going to make any attempt at a foreign language with the exception of the words, “Pizza and pepperoni.”
“What about il tuo cane?” Gorgio nodded to Wylie.
“I try not to give him h-u-m-a-n food,” Luna answered, but Wylie’s ears picked up.