Meanwhile, Erika looked from person to person. Finally, her eyes rested on his. “How’ve you been, Miss Washington?”
“Fine and dandy, Mr. Templet.” She dealt a hand and began lining up the cards.
“Yes, you do look that way.”
Erika glared at him. “You’re doing it again. That’s so ill-mannered.”
Booker wiped his fingers on his napkin. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”
“Then stop it. Please.”
He chuckled. “I apologize, Miss Washington. I promise you, I’m not a pervert lusting after pregnant women. I do wish I’d been able to say those things to my wife.”
“Oh?” Erika lifted her eyebrows, pity overtaking her expression. “Are condolences in order?”
“Booker, can I get you anything else?” Theresa’s voice sounded shrill.
“I guess divorce is a death of sorts.” To Theresa he said, “No, thanks. Sometimes I run my big trap too much.”
Filling his mouth with food was the way he decided to remedy his loose tongue.
“Breaking up is hard to do.”
“Neil Sedaka.” Booker swallowed his food.
Erika thumped down another card. “Now, you’re playing Name that Tune. You love to play games, I gather.”
“Trouble in paradise, Miss Washington?”
Erika’s exaggerated bat lowered her sooty lashes. When she looked at him, he saw fire in her eyes. “Not anymore.”
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