“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
“What now?!”
“Your hair is in my wine.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking at your age anyway.”
“I beg your pardon?”
She lifted the phone over the seat.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Guys, she’s giving me the angry grandma look!”
“Would you please take that thing out of my face?”
“Relax. I have eleven hundred people watching. You’re, like, a sidebar.”
“Shall I call Kelly again?” Harold asked quietly.
I looked at the wine I no longer wanted to touch.
“No, Harold. I think I’ve had enough.”
“Relax.”
I reached under the seat for my bag.
Brittany kept streaming.
I took a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet and let it flutter down beside Brittany’s feet.
“Sweetheart? I think you dropped something.”
“What?”
She looked down, folded forward, snatched up the bill and stuffed it in her purse.
Brittany kept streaming.
