Wes sipped at the cold water. “Roger works at a music store.”
“Like a record shop?” Cindy asked as she put the water pitcher back into the fridge.
Shaking his head, Wes explained, “Like a music store. You know—they sell instruments and sheet music and…” He shrugged. “Stuff like that. Herbert does some part-time singing at this church, I don’t remember which one, but he’s always in there looking for something new.”
“He’s a nice guy,” Cindy said.
Wes nodded. “Oh, I know. I still can’t believe you tried to set him up with Nathan—”
She choked on her water and spat a mouthful out into the sink.
Wes patted her back, concerned. “Cindy? You okay?” You call that nonchalant? “I didn’t mean—”
“I’m fine,” she sputtered. “God, Wes, warn me on that next time, will you?”
Coughing, she pou
