Chapter 8
“I think it melted,” said Kiko, keeping a safe distance between himself and Dom’s pie as they walked back to his truck. If the dessert had looked sad that morning, it was now closer to something decaying; the heat had not treated it well. The sprinkles had completely melted away into the whipped topping, which had overflowed the pie pan and dribbled whenever Dom did not keep it completely level.
“Great,” muttered Dom. “I can definitely place with a pie that’s gone to shit.”
“It’s a shame,” said Kiko, thinking it was not. Everyone had been spared having to taste Dom’s creation, including Kiko himself. “Don’t get any on my seats.”
Dom swore as he got into the truck.
“I don’t want to run into Sander with sticky pants,” he said, balancing the pie on his lap while he buckled up.
