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“But I told you nothing happened.” Abeo was insistent.
“All the same. You will be doing laundry before you go.” She tapped his foot with her shoe. “Now clean yourself up and get ready for church,” Chi-Chi barked at him.
“Church?” Abeo’s eyes went wide.
“Church. If anyone needs it today, it is you.”
* * *
Luna pulled into Cullen’s driveway around five. She could hear Wiley yapping. “Mommy’s home!” Luna called out.
Cullen greeted her at the door. He looked like the cat who ate the canary. Or was that her own expression on her face?
“Well? So?” Both were sputtering.
“You go first.” Luna squatted to give Wiley a big hug.
“Well, you know part of it.”
“Yeah. And thanks a pantload for scaring the hell out of me!” She gave him an affectionate punch in the arm.
“Sorry. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”
“Well, you were.”
“Do tell?”
“Oh no, mister. You have to recap first since you did interrupt me.”
“First I have to say, she looked absolutely exquisite.”
“I would not have expected any less.” Luna nodded.
“We ordered a seven-course tasting menu, then she disappeared just before dessert. She said she was going to the ladies’ room but she was gone for almost fifteen minutes. I thought she had left.”
“Chi-Chi would never do such a thing.”
“Of course not, but I was a little worried. I know she was wearing a jumpsuit, and from what I’ve been told, it’s a circus act getting in and out of them, but . . .” Cullen took a breath. “Without any introduction or notice, she appeared in front of the jazz combo and started to sing. I almost fell off my chair. That’s when I called you.” Cullen was almost out of breath.
“Yes. Duly noted.” Luna started to giggle. “I thought it was Anita Baker singing and couldn’t figure out why you were calling me to play a song over the phone.”
“Well, I thought you would appreciate her live performance other than inside my car.” Cullen smiled.
“Yes. I put you on speakerphone so Chris could hear it, too. He was quite impressed.”
“Speaking of Chris, how did it go?” Cullen was anxious to hear about Luna’s special weekend.
“Oh, wait a minute. You haven’t finished your story. Continue,” she directed.
“After she sang, the place went crazy, and the maître d’ sent over a split of champagne.”
“Only a split?” Luna was referring to the half-size bottle.
“It was Veuve Clicquot.” He grinned.
“Well, in that case, I suppose it was appropriate.”
She smirked. “And then?”
