?Chapter 138:


    Every head turned his way. shing a mischievous grin, Ralphy gestured in Dn’s direction. “You know, Miss Jones, Dn isn’t just goodpany—he’s a force on the track. You two ought to square off sometime and see whose nerves hold up better.”


    Ralphy had spent enough time watching Dn fumble for an opening—now he was determined to give his friend the spotlight.


    Caught off guard, Christina’s eyebrows shot up as she nced at Dn.


    “You race, too?”


    “Yeah,” Dn replied, his tone measured, poker-faced.


    Ralphy, clearly unimpressed with Dn’s curt reply, couldn’t help himself. This was Dn’s chance, and he wasn’t about to let him blow it.


    Eager to raise the stakes, Ralphy added, “No exaggeration—Dn’s the best I’ve ever seen.” He tossed a knowing look at Elliott, his grin widening. “If Dn hit the track, even that legendary Darknight would have to watch his back.”


    Elliott let out a low, icy chuckle. “Oh? Is that so?”


    “Of course! You think I’d lie about that? I’d bet money on it!” Ralphy’s faith in Dn was unshakable.


    Elliott smirked. “Then have your friend test his luck with me first. If he can’t beat me, he’s got no business going up against Miss Jones.”


    Before Ralphy could respond, Dn stepped in. His face gave nothing away. “Alright,” he said. “Name the time.”


    Elliott challenged, his eyes locking onto Dn’s. “After your family’s reunion banquet. We’ll settle it then.”


    “Deal,” Dn replied coolly. Elliott had no objections. With the banqueting up, he didn’t have the energy to waste before then anyway.


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    “These are amazing—anyone wanna try?” Christina offered, holding out a te of chicken roll-ups.


    There were two vors. One was in, the other drenched in pesto.


    Dn and Elliott both frowned at the pesto ones. They weren’t fans of basil leaves. But watching Christina dig in so happily, even they couldn’t deny—the chicken roll-ups with pesto looked good.


    “I’ll give it a try,” Dn said, scooping up a piece. The food exploded in his mouth. The pesto gave a savory, rich, earthy umami vor to the dish. Not bad.


    Not wanting to be left out, Elliott tasted the food himself.


    “Good?” Christina asked between bites. This ce really knew how to cook their signature dishes. She and Davina had been here before and loved it.


    Elliott nodded. “Yeah. These folks know what they’re doing.”


    “The ravioli is even better. Here, try some,” Christina said, handing some to him.


    Dn spoke up. “I’d like some too.”


    Christina didn’t dwell on Dn’s request, assuming he just wanted to try the ravioli instead of seeing it as apetition with Elliott for her attention. Without hesitation, she served him some.


    “They also do great baked ziti—the creaminess of the provolone cheese and sour cream, and a homemade meat sauce. I ordered two tes, but we can get more if it’s not enough,” Christina kept chatting as she grabbed a morsel of baked ziti and consumed it in one bite. The dish was full of vor—top-notch. If only she had a cold beer to go with it, it would’ve been perfect.


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