Pink Champagne And Apple Juice by Anne Brooke

Author:Anne Brooke [Brooke, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Erotica
ISBN: 9781611245776
Publisher: Amber Quill Press, LLC

Chapter 11

* * *

"How on earth did you manage to track me down?"

"Easy! Well, for someone like me with the skills of a detecting genius, it was easy." Lisa grinned and brushed back her hair from her blue eyes as she sat on the one chair in Angie's bedroom. "Honestly, babe, you just vanished. None of us had any idea where you'd got to, and getting your mother to cough up cost me two boxes of chocolate mints and a very large bunch of flowers. In the end, though, I got her drunk on a bottle of sherry and threatened to tell the neighbors she'd murdered you."

"No! Please don't tell me you've upset her as well. I'm in enough trouble already."

"No worries, she's fine. But the real question is how did you manage to get her so edgy?"

Angie sighed and sat up on the bed. "It's a long story."

"We're mates. Tell me."

She did--from finding the club to finding Philippe and everything in between. Not forgetting the café. Afterward, Angie thought how great it was Lisa was here. Someone from home.

"Hey, Lisa, what happened about your trip? Are Sal and Kat okay?"

Her friend's face sobered at once. "They're fine. Nothing happened...we just ran out of money, that's all."

"So where are the others now?"

"Sal's gone off to visit her boring old boyfriend, and Kat's disappeared on another of her digs. You know what she's like for turning up old Roman flints and stuff."

Angie nodded.

"So," she said, sitting cross-legged on the bed, "tell me all about Europe--all of it. And don't skip Paris."

Outside, the night grew deeper, and inside, the sound of The Den's preparations grew stronger. Angie heard all about gorging on chocolate in Brussels and the joys of raspberry beer; she heard all about how the men in Florence look you in the eye and don't look away; how brilliant Italian ice cream is; how much hotter it is when you cycle in a foreign country; and, most of all, how utterly cool Paris is. She tried hard to stop herself envying Lisa's lyrical descriptions of the Louvre, the Pompidou Centre and the Arc de Triomphe. In fact, they were so lyrical Angie was sure Lisa had simply memorized them from the guidebook to make her mates jealous.

Anyway, one day, she thought, I'll go to Paris and do all that stuff and there won't be any need to hear about it from someone else.

At last, Lisa reached the end of the adventures, which had, after a while, turned to eyeing up the available men and drinking gallons of beer. But somehow she didn't seem as happy with it all as Angie thought she should be.

"I don't know," her friend said, with a sigh. "All those adorable men, but not one of them really interested me, you know? They were sweet, but nothing special. It was like being in the middle of chocolate heaven, but not finding the centre you like. Do you think I'm losing my touch?"

Angie laughed. "No way! But

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