Marcus glanced at the clock, rolling his eyes.  With an exasperated huff, he tapped his foot on the linoleum floor - Katie was late again.  He didn't know how she hadn't been fired yet, she was always late or sick or had some bullshit excuse to weasel out of her shift.  He was pretty sure she was sleeping with the owner.  The married owner.The incessant jangling of the phone snapped him out of his thoughts and he grabbed the receiver in one flour-covered hand, “Romeo’s Pizza on West Elm, are