Getting dinner for the models

It was already dinner time, but before your stomach started to actually growl even the ladies felt a bit of hunger and they decided, with my enthusiastic Italian approval, to eat pizza to spoil themselves a bit since the show was near.

So somebody had to go down to ask suggestions to the hotel's concierge, since no one of you knew where to find a pizzeria in Paris, of course.

You volunteered for this culinary mission, and left the girls alone, not without repeating them at least three times that if they needed you they just had to call on the phone, and giving a kiss to Adriana (well, let's be honest, two).

You didn't take the gun, not that you didn't want too, but you saw my girlfriend's unspoken disappointment when you started to walk towards it so you tried to mask the gesture grabbing only the phone from the nightstand on your side of the bed, and not the P226 that was also there.

Well, she was kind of right, it was very unlikely that you would need it inside the hotel, but old habits are hard to loose.

Long story short, the concierge already had a few advices ready, because definitely you weren't the first clients wanting to have a pizza delivery. Choosing was easy, one of the restaurants was Italian so it was the logical option: not to brag, but you invented pizza and you are still the best at it.

The delivery would have been sent directly to your room, VIP treatment of booking the most expensive suite, so you were going to get back when somebody coming from behind literally fell over you.