Page 38 of Sinful Abandon

Giordano’s pizza is like nothing I have experienced in Chicago. Laughter and cheers come from tables. Friends are dining, children are playing at the tables, and workers are bustling around, bringing pizzas and pitchers to tables. Each table is covered in a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth.

“What do you like on your pizza?” he asks as a waitress hands me a menu.

I shrug. “You pick. Isn’t all pizza the same?”

I swear, the room goes silent.

Ryan just laughs. “She’s from New York,” he explains to the waitress, who is giving me the death stare. With a glorious smile, he says, “We’ll have the Chicago Classic, one Sam Adams IPA and a…” He motions for me to order.

“The same,” I say to her. Then, I turn to Ryan. “What’s in the Chicago Classic?”

“Pepperoni, mushrooms, onions, and green peppers.”

“In New York, the pizza’s so good, all you need is cheese.”

The waitress rips the menu from my hands, and I snicker as she walks away. Man, these people take their pizza seriously.

Ryan crosses his arms and leans his elbows on the table. “Tell me about New York.”

So, I do. I tell him about the city that invented hip-hop and how I would sneak out of school early to go into Manhattan and stand outside Total Request Live. When Ryan says he’s never heard of it, I don’t make a joke about how much younger he is than me. I tell him about how it was the most amazing show on MTV, hosted by Carson Daly, where the best videos of the day were played and there was always a celebrity on set.

“Can you keep a secret?” I ask as I hold out my pinkie, making him swear never to tell a soul.

He wraps his pinkie around mine and seals it with a kiss. I might have let my pinkie linger around his mouth a moment too long.

“I was on a game show once. Well, not really a game show. It was called Wanna Be a VJ.”

His eyes widen in shock. “Wanna Be a Vagina?”

I kick him under the table. “No, VJ, as in video jockey. You compete to be the next MTV host.”

“Did you win?”

“God, no. I was awful. I couldn’t read the prompter. I paused when asked a question and stammered all over my words like an oaf. It was terrible.” I recall the day I actually put myself out there and failed miserably. “God, I was nervous. That’s why I went into production. I knew my days in front of the camera were long over.”

He’s sitting back in his seat, gazing sweetly at me. “I would have voted for you. With those big doe eyes and the sassiest mouth, you would have made an amazing VJ.”

Well, damn if I’m not blushing.

Ryan tells me about his love for Chicago. From the Bears to the Bulls, he’s a huge sports fan, but that’s no surprise. His mom used to bundle him and his sisters up from head to toe in snow gear, and they looked like the kids from A Christmas Story. They would go swimming at his uncle’s lake house in Michigan. And then he tells me the most disgusting recipe for a hot dog.

“All-beef dog on a poppy-seed bun, topped with tomato slices, white onions, relish, a pickle spear, peppers, celery salt, and mustard.”

“That is the vilest thing I’ve ever heard of. The only thing that should be on a hot dog is mustard and sauerkraut,” I counter.

“First, pizza, and now, dogs? You’re breaking my heart.”

Our pizza comes, and we dive in. I hate to admit it, but Chicago-style pizza is delicious. Imagine my shock when I see the sauce is on top, and on the inside is cheesy goodness. Of course, when Ryan tries to get me to admit that Chicago pizza is better than New York’s, I refuse.

Inside, I want to tell him that everything is better in Chicago.

Everything.

When we’re done with our pizza, we drive to Navy Pier, a 3,300-foot pier on the Chicago shoreline of Lake Michigan, lined with restaurants, shops, tourist attractions, and vendors.

Stepping off the bike, the first thing I see is the 196 foot Ferris wheel I’ve seen many times from the road, but I have never stepped foot here. We walk under the red sign of Navy Pier Park and head to the Centennial Wheel. The navy-blue gondola of the Ferris wheel is lined with wall-to-wall glass so clear that I feel like I can float through it. We take our seats across from one another.

The car starts to move, and my belly swims with excitement. Looking down, I see the Tilt-a-Whirl ride from a bird’s-eye view. As we get higher, I take in the majestic sight of Lake Michigan as it rests against the shoreline of the great city. We reach the highest point on the rotation, and I see far beyond the horizon. Out there, I know the lake touches four states and multiple bodies of water flow its current into the Great Lake.