"Tonya didn't seem anything like that at all. She was cute, and seemed conservative on the outside. You would never guess that was going on in her min.... 'Lucky husband', I thought.After dinner I suggested that we do something to seal the night.She loved to dance more than anything and there was a trendy new dance club a few doors down the street and so I challenged her to show me she was serious: a first act of her new womanhood.I had always wanted to go to a club, then have her come in after. MSNs started to get dirty, he told me that he liked to be in charge in bed and I told him that I was absolutely the opposite and for the first time since we'd known one another, we were both single. We lived in different parts of the country. One thing led to another and I had found myself on a train and we spent the weekend fucking. Bliss. Fucking and friendship. We knew nothing more should ever come of it, neither of us wanted more. The sexual chemistry was amazing and we were comfortable in. My contribution was blended with a bit of olive oil and vinegar and distributed on slabs of toasted French bread.When we sat down at the table, Mike watched intently as I speared a shrimp and twirled pasta onto my fork. "How is it?" he asked after I'd chewed and swallowed."Amazing!" I shook my head in disbelief. "Where did you learn to cook like that?"He grinned and took a bite of his own dinner. "Taught myself, mostly. I used to watch a lot of cooking shows." You could do this. Someone is going to answer... Do I make myself clear?"Larreau rubbed the palm of his pudgy hand over his slightly perspiring forehead. "I see," he said after a moment. "It's that bad, eh?" Yes... it's that bad, and maybe worse," replied Jovell. "He'll definitely take a ride for this... We'll have to prepare him." Christ... he's my nephew, Jovell," said Larreau, more for appearances than anything, his brain already reaping the advantages with Madeleine if Antoine were completely out of his.