She smiles, and the tension in the room dissipates. “Good. Because I’d hate for you to tire me out somuch that tonight I slip up and admit I don’t even know my dearly beloved spouse’s middle name, andpoof, the whole jig’s up.”
The others and I can’t help but chuckle at her impishly evil expression.
Ludmil is the first to sober up. He looks to me. “She doesn’t know your middle name?”
Ludmil starts tapping away on his phone, making some notes. “Joy’s got a good point. Not that anyonewould think to quiz either of you on stuff like that, but it could be helpful to know. Just to throw in abit of authenticity.”
Joy bobs her head. “I’d hate for them to guess that I’m a”—she takes a significant pause—“paidwoman.”
She’s f*****g with me now; I can see it in her eyes. I suppress
