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had an agreement that she would keep her phone on at all times, so I could give her our room number at the hotel in case she needs me and I don’t answer my cell. This is just unlike her.”
    My goddaughter was an atypical sixteen-year-old American girl, as thoughtful, careful and reliable as her mother had not been at that age, so for her to be out of touch for this long was indeed cause for serious concern.
    â€œIs she staying home alone while you’re here?” Frank asked, again revealing how little he knew about teenagers.
    Shana looked a little more like herself when she threw him her you’re-out-of-your-mind glare. “No. Really, Frank. She’s staying with the Cooleys.”
    â€œElva and Howard,” Frank confirmed, acquainted with my parents to the point of over acquaintance as far as I was concerned. Mom routinely asked Frank when he was going to marry me in irritatingly indirect ways. Dad routinely asked Frank for advice on how to “off” people. Couldn’t I have parents who politely just asked about the weather over dinner? “Have you called them?” Frank inquired.
    Ben, Shana and I all shared a panicked moment where we all imagined what Mom and Dad would do when awoken by a middle-of-the-night Vegas call. “Not yet,” Ben finally said. “We kept hoping Affie would call back, and we wouldn’t have to.”
    â€œI guess Shana has to decide whether she is tired enough of waiting to disturb the Cooleys.”
    We were all quiet a moment while that sunk in. Shana blew out a breath, shook out her wavy dark hair and slowly rose to her feet. Ben rushed to hover next to her. Weird. I’d never seen him try so hard with any woman. Mostly they flocked to him, and he barely deigned to speak to them unless it regarded the next sexual position. He never chased, coddled or offered any kind of emotional or intellectual support. Hmm. I was going to have to nip this infatuation in the bud or else I was going to be caught in the middle when the relationship went south, which it undoubtedly would considering these were the two most promiscuous people on the planet. Finally, Shana tapped her clear-plastic-heeled Jimmy Choos a couple of times, then said: “Okay, let’s call them.”
    Clearly Ben and I were the “us” in “let’s,” since Shana didn’t move to use the cell that she held in her hand. I looked at Ben, who looked at me. He cocked his head. I guess his proprietary streak did not extend to calling Ma for Shana. I cocked my head right back. I had to deal with our parents more than he did, considering he was always “on the road” as a pharmaceutical sales rep and always busy going out every night. Of course, Mom still did his laundry, so he found enough time to go by and drop that off, didn’t he? Frank tucked a hank of my unruly chestnut hair behind my left ear, leaned down and asked quietly, “Do you want me to phone them?”
    Aw. It was love. It had to be. Nothing else would make a man brave enough to offer to deal with Elva at three a.m. I was tempted to jump his darling bones right then and there, but instead I shook my head. “No, Frank, I’ll do it, but you know I owe you for offering.”
    His crow’s feet crinkled. His eyes warmed to liquid chocolate. Dark, rich chocolate. I had to look away as he said quietly but not softly, “I can’t wait to collect.”
    I walked over to the coffee table and dug around in my purse for my cell phone, forgetting that it was under arrest. I growled, made a mental note to switch service to a new phone, and grabbed Ben’s from out of his pants pocket. “Hey!” he argued.
    I held it out to him with a questioning look. He evaded eye contact and leaned down to give Shana a shoulder squeeze. Jerk.
    I dialed and waited, braced for Dad, who would certainly answer this time of night, but who would have the phone snatched from his