“Chicago Graham with the two kids Graham?”

“Yes.”

“Chicago Graham that had you jumping in trash cans like a fool on Thanksgiving Eve, Graham?”

“Yes.”

“Graham that ripped your heart into little ittly bitty—”

“Yes, that Graham!” I said, now irritated myself.

“You don’t have to get an attitude with me. I’m not the one that had you fly to Chicago like a fool only to find out I was married.”

“Thanks, Gail.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I can’t let him see me like this.”

“I tell you what, girl, I’ll cover you in first class. Sam, you take my position in business class. As soon as we’re up in the air, we’ll figure it out.” Gail quickly headed for first class, and closed the cabin doors to a round of thunderous cheers. Sam headed for business class, where he signed a few more autographs from his earlier performance.

Shortly after takeoff, Gail rushed to the back. “Girl, you were right. He does look like Billy Dee. And he smells good, too! You think I can get him to say, ‘Do you want my arm to fall off?’”

“No.”

“Okay, well, how about ‘Success is nothing without someone to share it with.’”

“No Gail, this is serious. What am I going to do? I’m not ready for him to see me.”

“The way you described your trip to Chicago, he’s already seen you. Seen you, felt you up, filled you up, had you over for dinner, then took you below deck and had you as dessert. So what do you care? It’s over. He knows what he did, and he knows you know what he did. What’s the problem?”

“That’s the problem. I know what he did. I mean lying to me about being married and all. And he knows what he did—because he was the one that was lying. But he doesn’t know that I know, because we haven’t spoken since he did what it was that I know he did that he doesn’t know that I know. You know?”

“Montana, pull yourself together girl, you’re blabbering. Has he at least tried calling you?”

“He’s tried. But I haven’t returned any of his calls.”

“Why not?”

“After everything that happened, I was too embarrassed. I didn’t want him to think I was that stupid.”

“Girl, please, he doesn’t think you’re that stupid. He knows you were that stupid.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just keeping it real.”

Clanging his way to the back of the plane was Sam, looking like Igor after cleverly crafting a wicked creation. “Ooh, Montana, he’s cute. It’s a shame he flies to the right. You think he ever straightens out and flies down the middle or maybe even curiously drifts off to the left?” Sam said, batting his press-on lashes.

“Unfortunately no, Sam.”