“You could’ve called.” “JESUS, MARY, AND JOE PESCI!” I jump, almost dropping the wine bottle and bouquet onto the hardwood. Glancing up, I find Lady at the top of the stairs in a robe and a swamp-green face mask. “Joe Pesci?” She laughs, cracking a smile under the mountain of face goo. “That’s a new one. Where were you? A hot date?” I wish. At least then, I’d have a decent reason to be so tired. “Work.”
