"A prank order," the pizza girl moaned. "Oh, G-d. I'm sorry for bothering you Mr. O'Ma—whatever your name is. I don't feel so good. Do you mind if I sit down for a minute? I promise I won't bother you."

"Whatever," the man said, and the pizza girl took it as permission to sit.

She took a couple of deep breaths and cursed under her breath, trying to be angry instead of upset. She blinked her eyes quickly to hold back the tears.

"Are you still here?" the man said a few moments later.

"Yeah," the pizza girl said quietly. "I guess I'll just leave the pizza. I don't need it and I won't be able to sell it to anyone else. But, don't—please, don't make me go yet. I just can't face it."

The man sighed. "Are you going to get into so much trouble because of one lousy pie? I'll pay for it." He stood up, got out his wallet, and went a few steps up to the front of the cabin where the girl was sitting. The pizza pie was on the floor and the girl was slumped in a chair, her long legs bare. He couldn't believe she was wearing a miniskirt in weather like this. Which suddenly made his blood run cold. This girl wasn't really here to deliver pizza.

"Are you a prostitute?" the man demanded. "Did someone send you? Was it Lewis? Did he put you up to this? Well, if he did, it's not funny, and it's not helpful. No matter what, the real problem will still be there in the morning." The man paused, but didn't let the pizza girl get a word in edgewise. "But you know what is funny? If you would admit that you're a prostitute, I could arrest you for solicitation. But if I take you up on it, I could be arrested for statutory rape. Damn, the least Meldrick could have done was pick a girl who was of age."

Now the girl was sitting up ramrod straight in the chair. She was completely bewildered by what the guy had just said. "I'm not a prostitute, I'm twenty-three, and I don't know anybody named Lewis Meldrick."

"Other way around. Oh, yeah, if you're not a prostitute, then what's the big deal if you got a prank order? No pizza store manager's going to beat a girl because of that. But if your pimp found out you couldn't close the deal—"

The pizza girl slumped again. "It's not the manager I'm afraid of. Johnny's a good guy. It's my mother. She was drinking when I left for class this morning. I'm afraid of what I'm going to find when I get home. She's probably passed out on the bathroom floor so it won't matter if I'm a little late getting home from my shift. And I got a test back today that I didn't do so well on. Today has just been lousy."

"My day wasn't the best either," the man said. "I'm sorry if I was rude to you. What's your name? I'm Mike Kellerman."