I couldn't help but feel conflicted.
You see, my best friend Kate's marriage to Christian's brother was going through a bit of a rough patch due to the amount of traveling Elliot was having to do. Many was the night that Kate found herself alone in their mansion.
"I wish I were the kind of wife who always knew where her husband was," she once confided in me.
"And what kind of wife is that?" I asked her sympathetically.
But enough about Kate...
On our first night there, Christian spent the evening performing cunnilingus, and I'm not talking about an aria from an opera by Bizet.
The next afternoon, we found ourselves at an Italian restaurant.
"Cameriere! Vieni qui!" Christian called out soon after we were served.
"E come posso aiutarla, signore?" the waiter asked.
"There's a hair in my spaghetti and meatballs!" Christian complained in Italian. "Portalo via!"
Take it away!
The waiter apologized profusely, and quickly took Christian's plate away.
I smiled playfully at my beloved Christian.
"You're such a control freak," I told him, feeling naughty. "You certainly weren't complaining when you found a little hair in your meal last night."
"Perhaps, my delicious Ana" Christian replied, just as playfully, "but I certainly would have had I found a meatball."