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“Rick has a channel and he puts all your stuff on there,” he says. “Your sister showed it to me once.”

“I am going to kill her,” I say through my teeth. “I thought you didn’t know how to use the internet.”

“I don’t,” he says. “But there’s only one button I have to click in the little bookmark tab and it just pops up for me. Magic.”

“Magic,” I mumble. “So you’ve seen me perform once?”

“Once?” He shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve seen every one of your shows, kiddo.”

My jaw drops open. “But I thought…” I can’t even finish my sentence. “What about accounting?”

“I wanted you to get your education while you’re young. I didn’t go to college, and I wanted you to have that opportunity, to be able to get out of the restaurant biz if that’s what you desire.”

“Dad, I love working here. Peretti’s is great, and—”

He waves a hand. “I have no regrets about how my life turned out, but I want you to have whatever opportunities you may desire. I thought you were too young to decide whether or not you needed a college degree when you graduated high school, so I made you enroll.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’ve got talent, kid.”

“For accounting?”

He meets my eyes, and I realize we have the same forest green coloring there that lightens in the sun and darkens under the stars. “You’re going to make it in the comedy business, sweetheart. You’re talented, really funny, and smart too, not that stupid humor.”

I’m not sure what qualifies as stupid humor, but I’m glad my dad doesn’t think I have it. “Wow, I had no idea…”

“You’ll be graduating this year, and I guess…” He shrugs, returning his gaze to the countertop. “It’s time I am honest with you. I want you to go after your dreams. Get that degree first, like I ask, but then go for it. You’re young, and you’ve got grit. If anyone can make a living from their dreams, it’s you.”

“Dad—”

“Whatever news you got that has you in a funk—good or bad, I don’t care—you’re going to succeed at this, Andi, and I want you to know I’ll be there for you.”

My eyes sting. As I mentioned, we’re not an emotional family. Then again, we’ve never talked like this, not even at my mother’s funeral. “That means a lot, Dad.”

I lean over and put my arms around his shoulders. He squeezes me back, and dare I say he blinks a little faster than usual? I’ve seen my dad cry twice, that’s it—once when my mom got sick, once when she died. I hate seeing him cry more than anything.

“Maybe you can come to a live show once,” I tell him. “I’d love that.”

“Me too,” he says, his voice gruff.

We hesitate a moment longer, both of us in new territory. It’s clear that neither of us is quite sure where to go from here.

“Is there anything else going on?” My dad’s face crinkles as if he’s not sure whether or not he actually wants me to tell him. “Did you want to talk more?”

I shake my head, but after one more look at him, I find myself spilling the details about my day. I tell him about the audition, about the morning with Ryan—only the part about him leaving, not the good stuff from the previous night. Mostly, I just mention that he flew home.

“He’s gone, and I don’t know how to feel about it.”

“Feel however you want, kid,” he says. “The heart wants what it wants, even if your mind thinks it’s stupid.”

We sit together and I think about his words. The more I think about Ryan, the more I realize my heart wants to be next to his. My heart, my soul, my body—all three pieces agree on one thing: that Andi Peretti is happier when she’s around Ryan.

The phone rings, breaking the silence. My dad answers. “Hello?” he asks. The other person begins speaking and my dad glances at me. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

I blink up at him, trying to read his expression. I can’t.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” he says a few more times. “A smiley face?”

My heart beats faster.

“You don’t want a pizza, do you?” he says to the person on the other end of the line. “Sure, I’ll send her over.”

“Who was that?” I ask, trying to be calm. Ryan’s not even in the state—it can’t be him.

Sure enough, I’m right.

“That was Lisa,” he says. “She misses you.”

I try not to show my disappointment. “Ah.”

“She mentioned you had a rough day,” he says, watching me cautiously. “She also mentioned that she’s got a bottle of wine with your name on it, and said if you could bring over a pizza, that’d be great.”

“I already told her I’d be there after I finished up here,” I say. “Sorry, Dad, she’s persistent—”

“Go,” he says before I can finish. “Angela will be arriving any second, and we can handle it.”

“But—”

He reaches into the cash register and hands me a hundred. “Here are your tips. You can take the extra sausage I made by accident.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go.”

“I’m scared of Lisa, too,” I say with a smile, and my dad laughs. “Thank you.”

“I love you, kid,” he says.

“I love you too, Dad.”

He hands me a pizza, and I head out to the car. I’ve begun parking in the alley again, even though the vehicle is still missing a few pieces. Either my dad hasn’t noticed, or he doesn’t care.

When I slip into the car and the GPS guides me toward Lisa, a sense of calm falls over me. I have family. I have kickass friends. I have a potential breakthrough for my passion, and I hooked up with Ryan Pierce last night.

Life could definitely be worse.

 

CHAPTER 34

Andi

“You really didn’t have to bail me out early,” I say as soon as Lisa opens the door. I grabbed a bottle of wine on the way over, and it’s balanced on the pizza. “It’s nice of you to offer, but I could’ve stopped by later.”

“I was being selfish.” She reaches for the wine, and then leaves me to trail behind her carrying the pizza into the apartment. “I was out of wine, and you’d promised me a bottle.”

We both know she’s lying, but that’s how Lisa rolls. She’s the most loyal friend a girl can ask for; she might swear like a sailor, but she’s got my back, and I’ve got hers. That’s how it’s always been, and it’s how it’ll always be. I force her into a hug to show her I appreciate it.

I take my shoes off since I’m well acquainted with her home. It’s a tiny place that she shares with a roommate, but he’s rarely home. He’s one of our mutual comedian friends, and he’s gay—or so we think. I’m not sure it’s ever been confirmed.

“Derrick’s gone. Hamptons,” she says. “I think he’s found a friend out there, but what do I know? Sit down. Tell me everything.”

I follow her abrupt change of subject easily. We’ve been doing this for years, and Lisa has a cadence to her speech that I’ve grown accustomed to.

“I’m not sure there’s much to tell.”

“Uh, how about we start with the first question: why the hell did Nicholas Bennett call you?”

I wince. “He saw our show?!”

“I know.” Lisa sticks a hand on her hip. “I heard that from him. He called me after he finished with you!”

“Did you get an audition too?”

She squeals, a sound I never expected to Lisa make. She hates teeny-bopper, high-pitched girly noises, but in this moment she has her Justin Bieber-fangirl impression down pat. “Yes. Tomorrow. Hence the reason I’m drinking heavily tonight.”

I eye her glass. “You’re cut off.”

“I’m kidding. I haven’t had a thing to drink tonight except for whiskey, and that doesn’t count.” When I start to argue, she waves me off. “Moving along because I can’t talk about Nick any more without freaking out. So, tell me about Ryan.”

“Ryan…”

“Pierce.”

“I know which Ryan,” I say. “I’m trying to figure out what to tell you.”

“Did you kiss?”

I hesitate a moment too long and she inhales the hugest of breaths.

“Maybe I slept over.”