Page 10

Chapter 9

Carina

I t’s been two weeks since we flung open the doors of Pizza Girls , and I am super proud to say—we’re totally crushing it.

Like full-on, dough-slinging, cheese-bubbling success.

We’ve got regulars. We’ve got raving Yelp reviews.

We’ve got one minor issue with our bank account that I refuse to acknowledge right now.

Because, in the grand scheme of things, everything is perfect!

Well. Sorta. Kinda.

Anyway.

“Carina?” Dina’s voice calls from the front as she steps inside, already untying her scarf and shaking out her hair like she’s about to take on a mob of hungry customers. “Mr. O’Doyle left a notice under the door today. I thought we paid the rent?”

Ugh. Landlord.

Why are you like this?

I snatch the letter from her and rip it open.

Yup. Another late notice.

I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale through my nose, counting to three like a normal, non-panicking business owner.

“Carina,” Dina’s voice lowers, the way it does when she’s about to Mom Voice me.

“Is he wrong? We just paid him.”

“I know,” I groan, already flipping open my laptop and logging into our bank account. “We were already a month behind, though. No worries. You just take care of the front while I figure this out.”

Dina crosses her arms. “If I need to drop out of my classes?—”

I snap my head up so fast I nearly get whiplash.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Her education has been on hold long enough, thanks to life, money, and that one time we accidentally adopted a runaway cat that cost us an entire month’s rent in vet bills.

But I’ll be damned if I let her put her dreams on hold again just because we’re still playing financial hopscotch with Mr. O’Doyle.

No. Freaking. Way.

Plus, I love Mr. Whiskers. He’s the only date I’ve had in months.

She sighs, watching me like she knows I’m about to do something reckless. Which, let’s be real, I probably am.

But it’s fine.

Everything is fine.

I just need to find an extra thousand bucks somewhere before Friday.

Totally doable. Right?

Right.

“Shoo while I do this,” I tell her.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be up front if you need me,” she says, and I wave her off.

A couple of hours, a few deep breaths, and some creative financial acrobatics later, I manage to wiggle things around enough to send that creeper his rent money.

Good news: we’re in the clear for another month.

Bad news: I think my bank account just burst into tears.

We really need a better place to live.

Something with, oh, I don’t know, functioning plumbing and a landlord who doesn’t lurk around like a horror movie villain.

But for now? We’re stuck. So, we make the most of it.

Tonight is special.

It’s the first time all three of us— me, MJ, and Dina —are closing the pizzeria together, and judging by the empty display case, it was a damn good night.

Eduardo, our night-shift cleanup guy, is already in the kitchen doing his thing. That man is a saint.

He hums while he works, totally unbothered by the pizza flour and chaos we leave in our wake.

“Come on, Carina,” MJ calls, waving me over. “I poured us all a glass of sweet tea.”

MJ, ever the mother hen, always making sure we sit down, breathe, and act like actual humans instead of exhausted pizza gremlins.

I nod and slide into the booth with them. The place is quiet now, the kind of peaceful that comes after a long but satisfying day.

We’ve always been close, even for sisters. Had to be.

Losing our mom so young meant we learned early how to hold each other up. And when Dad passed last year?

Well… it just cemented the fact that we were all we had left.

Medical bills don’t just disappear because you cry into them, and keeping this business afloat is the only way I know how to make sure we don’t drown.

But right now, for this one moment, I let myself relax.

“So, guys, I, um, kinda did a thing,” Dina blurts, stirring her tea like she’s trying to will it into giving her courage.

MJ and I lock eyes before simultaneously turning our very skeptical attention to our youngest sister.

Dina, the baby of the family. The Queen of Shenanigans. The Architect of Chaos.

I love her to pieces— I do .

But if she’s about to drop something insane on us, I need at least a ten-second warning and possibly another glass of sweet tea with bourbon this time.

“What is it?” I ask cautiously.

“Well, don’t get mad,” she starts, already looking guilty as hell. “I only did this to help?—”

“Oh my God,” MJ interrupts, eyes wide. “Dina, did you start an OnlyFans selling feet pics?”

Dina gasps so hard she nearly inhales her straw.

“What?! NO! I did not! Who the hell wants to see my feet?” she screeches, looking genuinely horrified.

MJ and I immediately lose it, laughing so hard I nearly choke on my tea.

“You’d be surprised,” I mumble, wiping my eyes.

“Oh my gah! That’s seriously sick.”

She shudders dramatically, then shakes her head like she’s physically trying to erase the thought. “Anyway, no, I am not selling feet pics.”

MJ leans forward. “Okay, then what did you do?”

Dina clears her throat, eyes flicking toward MJ in a way that instantly raises my suspicion.

Oh no.

Not this again.

“I signed us up for Uncle Uzzi’s Date to Mate app.”

Three seconds of silence pass.

“What?”

MJ sits up straighter. “You remember Uncle Uzzi, Carina. He was that nice old man dressed in white? The one who came in with the hunky guy who fixed our website?”

Of course, I freaking remember him. And why is MJ calling Horace hunky?

My heart does this weird, panicked thump, like it knows something ridiculous is coming.

I narrow my gaze and swallow hard.

“When you say us, you mean you, right?” I ask.

Dina grins. The grin that says, Oh, Big Sis, you are about to be so mad at me but also maybe low-key impressed .

“Actually,” she drags the word out, way too pleased with herself.

Her eyes flick to MJ again.

Oh. My. God.

MJ knows what’s coming.

I snap my gaze to her, but instead of looking guilty, she just takes a sip of her tea like she’s washing her hands of the situation.

“Dina,” I say slowly, “who exactly did you sign up?”

Dina claps her hands together, practically vibrating with excitement.

“You!”

I blink. “What.”

She beams. “And guess what? You have a date and it's tomorrow night!”

Oh no.

No, no, no.

I am so going to kill my little sister.

Right after I find out who the hell she signed me up to date.