How very little it takes to make him happy—a pizza, how could life have been so cruel to my Mate that he couldn’t even afford a pizza. “How long has it been since you’ve had a pizza?”
“Since my mother died. My father didn’t like spending money for takeout food when we had a perfectly good stove. We had to do for ourselves. When I went into the apartment, I needed to save to get away so I couldn’t afford luxuries like pizza. I used to make English muffin pizza in my toaster oven but it wasn’t the same.”
“Marie Claire has the kitchen table set for six. The pizza should be here any minute. What do you want to drink, beer?” Rémy cocked an eyebrow.
“Do you have any Coke Zero?” Ian asked hopeful.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I drink that with pizza. I don’t like beer.” Rémy grimaced.
Ian confided, “Neither do I.”
The doorbell rang, and Luc went to answer it, paid for the pizza, and Rémy and Ian followed their noses down to the kitchen.