Page 8 of Lyrical

“Perry!”

“At least I didn’t say ‘fuck,’ geez.”

Mrs. Faulks blinked so hard as if trying to make the connection between what she was hearing and what she thought she was. I’d make a bet that she didn’t encounter this too often.

Perry linked her arm with mine. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Faulks, but I believe we’re going to pass. My fiancé can spend his wad of cash at a moresuitableplace elsewhere.”

She tugged me away, leaving the bewildered woman stuck in her tracks. “See, I can be polite too.”

“What the hell was that about?”

“Tell me she wasn’t starting to annoy the shit out of you too. She reminded me of my tight-ass sister, but at least I like her.”

“Well, yeah, but….” We strolled down the hallway, and I started laughing. “Boom room? Where’d you get that from?”

“Just made it up. I could have said much worse, believe me.”

“I don’t doubt that, Perry.” We crossed the lobby and stepped out into the biting air. “You know, you just decimated your chances of booking this place.”

She gave me an eye roll. “Wouldyouwant your reception here?”

“No, but you used to fantasize about fancy weddings and fairy tales, and now it’s like you want to sabotage anything to do with it.”

Perry was as far from a snob as they came, couldn’t care less about money and image, but for as long as I’d known her, she’d always wanted to be a princess bride on her wedding day.

“I already have my fairy tale. I have your brother.” She pointed across the street. “Hey, let’s go into O’Callaghan’s. Get out of the cold and figure out what we’re doing next.”

I nodded, then pulled her sharply back when she tried taking a step forward. Another thought just occurred to me. “Holy fuck, are you pregnant?”

“What? No.” She started cracking up. “Why in the world would you think that?”

“Like I said, you’re not acting yourself lately.”

“Well, I’m not. Not yet.” She winked. “Come on, let’s go.”

We crossed over Broadway and went inside the little Irish pub. It was much more inviting and down-to-earth than where we just left. More like the city I knew and loved.

Snagging a corner table, I glanced around. It was pretty quiet, but it was only a Saturday afternoon. It’d pick up very soon.

When the waitress came around, I ordered a black coffee and Perry raised an eyebrow.

“They have Spotted Cow on tap.”

“No, coffee sounds good right now.”

“Well, I’ll take a peach margarita.” Our waitress nodded. “And throw a shot of Jameson into that coffee, please.”

“No.”

“Yes.” She made gestures to the girl, indicating she should hurry up and leave before I fought her too hard on it. When I didn’t respond again, she left for the bar.

“Perry, plain ole coffee was just fine with me. We’re here to get stuff done, not to drink.”

“Who’s to say we can’t do both? You can handle a little liquor. And if you can’t, there’s such a thing as cabs. But it’s not like you have to drive for a while. No rush to get home, right?”

She narrowed her eyes at me as if daring me to answer differently. “Nope, my day is yours,” I said, making her smile big. “Now, tomorrow….”

Perry waved her hands in the air. “Woot, woot! Daniel’s coming home. How freaking psyched are you?”

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