table.
Ella’s forehead creased into a frown. “ oh . Well, that’s just great , isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’m lucky that way.”
“You do know that your sarcasm is a defense?” Ella announced in an unexpectedly quiet voice. “We should have a session on that.”
So, she did have an inside voice. Who knew? I looked at her over the top of my mug as I drained the steaming brew. “In my line of work, an offense is rarely available, so a defense is vital.”
“You always have a quip.”
“A substitute for an answer when I don’t have one. But, I really don’t want to go there.”
Ella pouted as she looked down, picking at a thread sticking out from the bottom buttonhole in her perfect little cashmere cardigan—in a dusty rose that just missed clashing with her hair color. Her shoes matched her cardigan.
How did one do that? Better question—why? I preferred being a fashion casualty—that way no one had any expectations. “Thank you, though.”
That perked her up. Southern women and their manners: comfort in insincerity.
Delphinia cleared her throat. “I thought perhaps I would start, then Ella can have her say.”
* * *
T he meeting took a bit longer than I’d budgeted, and I was hurrying with my goodbyes when Teddie’s voice boomed from the doorway. “Lucky, woman, are you in here?”
Delphinia glanced at me, a question on her face.
“The hot guy.”
“Oh.” Interest sparked in her eyes, turning them an interesting shade of purple.
“Come, we can all say hi.”
Teddie remained outside, lurking as if afraid to enter into the House of Matrimony. I chose not to be worried about that—to be honest, I wasn’t all that comfortable there either.
Ella bolted in front of Delphinia and me. She waggled her fingers at Teddie, “ hi , handsome.”
Teddie bussed her cheek as expected. “Ella, you look competitive, as always.”
“Oh, you say the nicest things.” Ella swatted his arm.
“And you,” Teddie said, turning his attention to me. “You look good enough to eat—a feast for the eyes and food for the soul.”
Now it was my turn to color as he grabbed me, dipped me over bended knee with a flourish, and then righted me. Pulling me close, he wrapped me tight and kissed me—slow and purposeful, like he really meant it.
My knees went weak. My breath caught. Nothing like a distraction to keep me focused.
When Teddie had made his point and air once again filled my lungs and blood reached my brain, I let Delphinia engage Teddie in a bit of small talk while I tried to marshal my elusive composure—something near impossible when Teddie was close by.
With pleasantries exchanged and quick goodbyes said to Ella and Delphinia, Teddie grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the hotel lobby. “Come on. Hurry.”
“What?” I laughed as I let him pull me along. “Is Hugh Jackman stripping in the lobby?”
“If he was I sure wouldn’t tell you.” Teddie slowed his pace a bit. “They’re taping the first segment of the game show—the initial interviews. They asked me to be the Vegas celebrity judge.”
“Since you’re such an authority on long-term relationships,” I teased, with just the teensiest hint of sarcasm.
“Hey, I’m staying a chapter ahead of the class.”
“I guess that makes you an expert.”
* * *
B y the time we hit the lobby I’d taken two phone calls, and messages were cueing up faster than fans waiting for Lady Gaga tickets. Clearly, I was out of fun time. Teddie didn’t seem too broken up about me not being able to play. He was harder to read than ancient hieroglyphics, even with the friggin’ Rosetta stone. Lately, though, he’d been stuck in “me” mode—one of the curses of the chromosomally challenged. To be honest, I found it really tiresome, and a bit insulting. As if my responsibilities didn’t matter. Perhaps I was being petty. Perhaps not. Frankly, I didn’t have the time to tackle that Gordian knot.
Nor the patience. Today,
Ella’s forehead creased into a frown. “ oh . Well, that’s just great , isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I’m lucky that way.”
“You do know that your sarcasm is a defense?” Ella announced in an unexpectedly quiet voice. “We should have a session on that.”
So, she did have an inside voice. Who knew? I looked at her over the top of my mug as I drained the steaming brew. “In my line of work, an offense is rarely available, so a defense is vital.”
“You always have a quip.”
“A substitute for an answer when I don’t have one. But, I really don’t want to go there.”
Ella pouted as she looked down, picking at a thread sticking out from the bottom buttonhole in her perfect little cashmere cardigan—in a dusty rose that just missed clashing with her hair color. Her shoes matched her cardigan.
How did one do that? Better question—why? I preferred being a fashion casualty—that way no one had any expectations. “Thank you, though.”
That perked her up. Southern women and their manners: comfort in insincerity.
Delphinia cleared her throat. “I thought perhaps I would start, then Ella can have her say.”
* * *
T he meeting took a bit longer than I’d budgeted, and I was hurrying with my goodbyes when Teddie’s voice boomed from the doorway. “Lucky, woman, are you in here?”
Delphinia glanced at me, a question on her face.
“The hot guy.”
“Oh.” Interest sparked in her eyes, turning them an interesting shade of purple.
“Come, we can all say hi.”
Teddie remained outside, lurking as if afraid to enter into the House of Matrimony. I chose not to be worried about that—to be honest, I wasn’t all that comfortable there either.
Ella bolted in front of Delphinia and me. She waggled her fingers at Teddie, “ hi , handsome.”
Teddie bussed her cheek as expected. “Ella, you look competitive, as always.”
“Oh, you say the nicest things.” Ella swatted his arm.
“And you,” Teddie said, turning his attention to me. “You look good enough to eat—a feast for the eyes and food for the soul.”
Now it was my turn to color as he grabbed me, dipped me over bended knee with a flourish, and then righted me. Pulling me close, he wrapped me tight and kissed me—slow and purposeful, like he really meant it.
My knees went weak. My breath caught. Nothing like a distraction to keep me focused.
When Teddie had made his point and air once again filled my lungs and blood reached my brain, I let Delphinia engage Teddie in a bit of small talk while I tried to marshal my elusive composure—something near impossible when Teddie was close by.
With pleasantries exchanged and quick goodbyes said to Ella and Delphinia, Teddie grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the hotel lobby. “Come on. Hurry.”
“What?” I laughed as I let him pull me along. “Is Hugh Jackman stripping in the lobby?”
“If he was I sure wouldn’t tell you.” Teddie slowed his pace a bit. “They’re taping the first segment of the game show—the initial interviews. They asked me to be the Vegas celebrity judge.”
“Since you’re such an authority on long-term relationships,” I teased, with just the teensiest hint of sarcasm.
“Hey, I’m staying a chapter ahead of the class.”
“I guess that makes you an expert.”
* * *
B y the time we hit the lobby I’d taken two phone calls, and messages were cueing up faster than fans waiting for Lady Gaga tickets. Clearly, I was out of fun time. Teddie didn’t seem too broken up about me not being able to play. He was harder to read than ancient hieroglyphics, even with the friggin’ Rosetta stone. Lately, though, he’d been stuck in “me” mode—one of the curses of the chromosomally challenged. To be honest, I found it really tiresome, and a bit insulting. As if my responsibilities didn’t matter. Perhaps I was being petty. Perhaps not. Frankly, I didn’t have the time to tackle that Gordian knot.
Nor the patience. Today,
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