Free Killer Crust by Chris Cavender Page A

twin frequency without saying much of anything aloud. There was something underlying the serenity though, and I could feel the tension radiate off them like heat from a lamp. Jeff and Sandy from Asheville were quiet as well, but again, there was nothing peaceful about their behavior. If I had to guess, I’d say that their argument about Luigi was still brewing just below the surface. I’d never seen Luigi flirting with anyone the entire time I’d known the man, but that didn’t mean that it hadn’t happened. Just how far had the man pushed the Asheville pizza makers? It sounded as though Luigi had stepped way over the line with Sandy, and I could understand the way Jeff must have felt. Our last competitors were Kenny and Anna from Charlotte. I hadn’t paid them much attention since they’d arrived so late, but it was clear that I’d missed something along the way. Kenny looked extremely upset about something, and Anna was really awkward around him, apologizing every time she got in his way, which seemed to be constantly. All in all, the stress and strain seemed to be showing on all of us in one way or another. If Tina Lance had been telling the truth, they would have the least amount of pressure on them of any team, but you couldn’t tell that by watching them. I was scanning the audience for Tina Lance when Maddy nudged my elbow.

Chapter 6
    “C heck it already, will you?” she asked. “We’re losing valuable time here.” There was some real strain in her voice, and I knew that this prize was as important to her as it was to me. It wasn’t just about the money, either. If we won, it would be something we could point to as a stamp of approval for our skills, even if it was just coming from Luigi.
    I tested the dough, and it finally had some give to it.
    “It’s ready,” I said.
    “Finally,” Maddy answered, the relief clear in her voice.
    I took the dough, kneaded it gently in the pan, and then made sure that the crust was thin, and more important, uniform. When I had it right, I stopped adjusting it and added a touch of our sauce to the top of it. It was important not to use too much, something that could be overwhelming in a thin crust pizza, at least in my mind. I slid it over to Maddy, who added the cheese in a very careful and measured application. For tonight’s pizza, we were going bold, making it a simple five-cheese blend with no other toppings. On the way to the competition, we’d debated long and hard about what to make, and she finally gave in to my opinion, something that was rare enough on most occasions to celebrate. I felt that in our earlier attempt in making our kitchen sink pizza, we’d used more toppings than we normally did at the Slice, but that seemed to suit our regular crust. With the thin crust though, I felt it was important to showcase the pie itself, and not the additions we might bring to it. Joe and I had experimented with dozens of cheesy combinations when we’d first opened A Slice of Delight, and we’d finally settled on a mix that Maddy and I still made ourselves at least once a week.
    My sister looked at the nearly naked pizza, and then back at me. “Are you sure about this? Are we committing to this style?”
    I looked around at the other entries, but I couldn’t tell exactly what toppings they’d used on their pizzas. When I looked at ours before I got ready to slide it into the oven, it looked kind of naked to me, and for a second, I almost gave in to the temptation to load it up.
    But just for a second.
    “It goes in as is. Did you check the cord this time?” I didn’t want any replays of what had happened earlier.
    “We’re all set, and I’m going to watch it the entire time,” she said.
    I opened the portable oven door and slid our pizza into the oven. The regular crust had gone on top of the pizza stone inside, but this one was going in on a special pan made just for thin crust pizza.
    There was no going back now. We were committed to our bare bones