Chapter Eighteen #2
“Jimmy thought we were on a date, too.”
“He did?”
Razor nodded. “Made fun of me. Told me I needed to brush up on my romance game if the best I could come up with was batting practice.”
Ashton relaxed back into her seat. “He’s not wrong. Dinner and dancing would’ve been more appropriate.”
Razor chuckled. “That’s what he said.”
They stayed silent for a few more minutes, Razor merging seamlessly onto the access road taking them toward the university.
“You know, batting practice is kind of like dancing. There’s timing involved, beats, and specific steps to follow.” Ashton turned her head and smiled. “And we are going to dinner.”
Razor snorted and shook her head. “You’re reaching. But I like the way you think.” She reached over and clasped Ashton’s hand. “Where am I going?”
Ashton took her eyes off their joined hands and pointed out the windshield. “Take the next left, then it’ll be on your right. You’re going to love this place. They have the best brussels sprouts and mozzarella pizza.”
Razor made a disgusted look and withdrew her hand. Ashton laughed.
“Brussels sprouts? On a pizza?”
“Trust me, it’s delicious.”
“I think you and I have different opinions on what constitutes a delicious pizza topping.”
“Will you stop being a baby and at least try it?”
“Fine. I will try your healthy pizza,” Razor conceded and eased the truck into the parking space in front of the Pizza Chef sign.
“Brussels sprouts. On a pizza. That’s just…wrong.”
* * *
Razor scrutinized the slice of pizza from every angle.
Buffalo mozzarella bubbled and melted over the crust. The smell of baked pizza dough combined with garlic and Parmesan wafted up to Ashton’s nose.
The pièce de résistance, the ingredient giving Razor pause, was the blackened brussels sprout halves atop the delicious artwork, drizzled with a tangy balsamic glaze.
Ashton’s mouth watered, and soon she was going to shove the slice into Razor’s mouth so she could start eating.
“Okay, here it goes,” Razor huffed.
Tentatively, she brought the slice to her lips and bit off the tip, getting a small flake of sprout. She chewed slowly, contemplatively.
“Well?”
She swallowed and set the remainder of the slice on her plate and smiled. “I don’t hate it.”
Ashton grinned, then slid two slices over to her plate. She took a huge bite out of one, the garlic, mozzarella, and balsamic glaze hitting her tongue in pure bliss. She closed her eyes and let out a long, satisfied moan. When she opened them, Razor’s pupils were dilated and her mouth gaped.
“What’s wrong? Do I have cheese on my face?”
Razor jerked out of her stupor. “No, no, cheese just…never mind.”
Ashton’s cheeks warmed as she shoved the slice farther into her mouth.
“I’m guessing they didn’t have a lot of pizza in Japan,” Razor mused.
Ashton shook her head. “They did. Pizza’s actually very popular there. They even have chefs who’ve gone to study how to make it in Italy.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. They also have traditional pizza toppings like pepperoni and cheese, but it was fun to explore the cultural flair they added, based on the fresh ingredients they had readily available to them.”
Razor pointed at the pizza on the platter. “Were they anything like this?”
Ashton chuckled and shook her head. “This is tame compared to what I saw over there. One place near Hiroshima topped theirs with fresh oysters.” Razor wrinkled her nose. “I know, it doesn’t sound great, but it was surprisingly really good.”
“What else did they use?”
Ashton placed her crust on her plate and thought for a minute. “Let’s see. In Hokkaido they had potato and corn pizza.”
“At least I recognize those ingredients. Still don’t think I’d put them on a pizza.”
Ashton shrugged and picked up the last cheesy knot. “That place was on the far northern end of the island, and they were the easiest ingredients to come by. But the one thing I could never understand is Japan’s obsession with mayonnaise.”
Razor dropped her slice with a small splat. “Mayonnaise? Seriously?”
Ashton nodded and laughed. “They put it on everything. Very weird. No disputing taste, though.”
“I bet,” Razor said, a smile playing on her lips. “What else did you experience? What was it like?”
Ashton split the cheesy knot in half and handed part of it to Razor. Their fingers brushed and Ashton swore she felt a little current shoot through her arm. Judging by how Razor’s hand lingered, she felt it, too, and smiled when she pulled her hand away.
“Playing in Japan was awesome,” she said wistfully.
“Softball is very popular over there. We played in stadiums so full of fans you could never imagine it in your wildest dreams. People would plan their whole days around our games. It was such an exhilarating experience. And you get paid. Very well. It’s amazing to know you’re in a place where you’re valued and respected because of your sport. ”