Page 33 of Madam Alana

My husband hailed a cab and we ended up at a place calledPizza King.

Christophe and Celine went to battle loading up their plateswith slices from at least five different pizzas that were included in theall-you-can-eat buffet. There was also a make-your-own salad station which Igravitated toward.

I added two slices of pizza to my plate and made myself agreen salad with all the healthy ingredients on offer. It had been a whilesince I’d gorged on fresh produce.

“Neither of you got a salad?” I set my plate down on thetable as Christophe held out my chair. He waited until I sat to take his own.

“No room. I’m not going to let this one beat me in apizza-eating competition.” Celine hooked a thumb to the side where Christophewas sitting and grinned around a slice he’d just bitten into.

Both of themgobbled up their firstpiece so fast I wasn’t sure they’d even tasted it.

“Numérodeux,”Christophe boasted before shoving half a slice into his mouth.

“I don’t think so!” Celine did the same untilboth of themwere stuffed full, their cheeks puffed out likechipmunks with too many nuts.

“You’re going to make yourselves sick,” I warned and took adelicate bite of the pepperoni, sausage, and cheese before me.

Christophe ordered a couple of pitchers of beer and he andCeline went to town on them.

Over the next two hours, the conversation flowed, thepizza-eating contest wore on, and the tipsy side of both came out. Celine andChristophe were two birds of a feather. Singing songs, cracking up at eachother’s efforts to eatjust one more pieceto beat out the other, andsmacking the table every time one of them almost choked. I took Christophe’scamera and took a candid shot of themcheersingwithslices of pizza while holding beer mugs in the opposite hands.

They were two peas in a pod, fast friends. I couldn’t havebeen more blessed. The two people I loved most in the world got along famously.

“I win!” Christophe suddenly bragged.

“Only because I’m literally half your size,youcheater! You should have had to double your slices tominein order forit to be fair,” she complainedplayfully.

“Non, non, non.” He waggled his finger at her. “Iwon fair and square. Admit it.”

She crossed her arms like a bratty child and pouted comically.

“Come on. Admit defeat,monami,” he chuckled.

She groaned and made a big deal of slumping in her chair andsighing loudly. “Fine. Christophe Toussaint, you have won the pizza challenge.You are the Pizza King.”

“Pizza King!” He put his hands in the air and cheered likehe was at a football game. “Merci,merci! I am the winner!”He laid it on super thick, but it was hilarious and cute in his French accent.

“Whatever, brag all you want. Next time when I’ve had alittle practice, you’re going down!” She pointed to the floor, and hebelly-laughed in return.

I snickered, simply enjoying their company and camaraderie.It would be sad to leave her tonight, but at least I knew she believed she washappy. That’s all I could ever want for her.

“I know! Let’s get tattoos! Christophe, will you spot mesome cash if they won’t take Darren’s credit card?”

His eyebrows rose into his hairline. “Of course. But are yousure you want to do that?”

“Hell, yeah! I may not see you and Alana for another year ormore! Let’s get matching tatts in Las Vegas. You know, something to rememberthis trip by. Like our wedding date or something. It can represent the day ourlives changed forever.”

I was terrified of the possibility of pain but exhilaratedat the idea of doing something rash. “I love it. Let’s do it!”

Chapter 12

Easyto Love

The tattoo needle pricked my skin, sending jolts ofelectricity up and down my arm. It wasn’t extremely painful as I’d assumed itwould be. It was rather exhilarating, and dare I say a bit arousal inducing. Orthat could have been because I had a hunky man sitting at my side, holding myhandand whispering sweet nothings to me in French. Thosetwo things together were quite titillating.

Celine and I had chosen to get something deeply meaningfuland had the design placed where we could see it every day.Inlight of the fact thatwe would be saying our goodbyes tonight, I wantedthat physical reminder of her and our friendship.

Christophe had come up with the most amazing idea. Insteadof getting our wedding date, since that technically also involved our husbands,he’d suggested something artful. He’d had the tattoo artist get an ink pad.Celine and I placed our thumbs onto it, and then Christophe positioned ourhands in such a way that when we pressed our fingers onto a piece of paper, itcreated a heart shapemade out ofour thumbprints.

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