Robert
Trevor was smiling and laughing when they tumbled in the door. Noelle was balancing two extra large New York style pizza boxes on one hand and was trying to scoot Trevor in the door with the other, while she held the door open with her foot. I made a mental note to put in a request for an automatic, handicapped accessible door for the resort’s main entrance.
The smell wafting off that pizza box was divine. Tomato, toasted cheese, garlic, basil and oregano.
“Listen, Mr. Olympia, I realize that a hot pizza with gooey cheese and greasy pepperoni is far beneath your healthy eating plan,” she teased me as she marched toward the stairs, “But Trevor and I will be enjoying this authentic Italian-American delight in the dining room if you and Alba would like to join us.”
Yes, I tried to
