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I had. It was darn good.
    “You are a genius, Josie. Let’s shop our butts off and work up an appetite,” I announced. Josie draped her arm over my shoulder and off we went to melt our credit cards.
    “I love you, girl. You’re the best,” Josie said.
    “You too. I can’t believe you’re married,” I said as we angled towards a lingerie shop in unison.
    “I’m pregnant too,” Josie said suddenly. I stopped in my tracks, my mouth agape. “Ha, got you! You’re so gullible, girl,” Josie said laughing. I shook my head and smiled.
    “I’m going to kill you,” I said jokingly and then added, “If you don’t give me a heart attack first.”
    ~~~
    “Yeah, I heard. Tommy wouldn’t shut up about it,” James said when I picked him up at the hanger a few days later.
    “It’s crazy but kind of romantic,” I said.
    “You want me to take you to Vegas?” James asked and looked at me with his trademark devilish grin.
    “Even if I was going to marry an ex-con like you, I wouldn’t do it in Vegas. I want a big church wedding, thousands of guests and you in a tuxedo,” I said and waited. James curled his lip and sneered at that.
    “A tuxedo? You really know how to hurt a man,” he said. I giggled at that.
    “You’d look sexy in a bowtie and cummerbund,” I teased. I could hardly imagine such a thing though. I’d rarely seen James in anything but jeans, a t-shirt and his favorite big, black boots. I wasn’t complaining. He looked magnificent dressed like that. James frowned and shuddered. I burst out laughing at him. “Maybe a ruffled shirt too. I’m thinking powder blue,” I continued.
    “Stop it! I feel dirty now,” James said. I was glad we could joke about it. We’d never really discussed anything beyond living together. We hadn’t had a lot of time with all the drama swirling around us. Again, I wished James and I could just run off and get married like Tommy and Josie. I wished life were easier. Soon enough I hoped.
    “I’m sorry. That was mean. I’ll make it up to you later,” I said. James grinned at me again but then he suddenly looked wounded.
    “Ex-con? Really?” he asked.
    “You just got that?” I asked him playfully.
    “That’s cold,” James said as his smile returned.
    “Maybe you could drop the soap tonight,” I teased. James laughed.
    “I do like it when you get fired up, little girl,” James told me. Once we were home, James and I spent some time just sitting together. We didn’t talk. We lounged on the sofa in his office, James’ arm around me as I stroked his scraggly beard. It was nice to be alone at home together without the police, lawyers and private investigators. However, it didn’t last long. James’ phone rang and it was Phil, the private investigator.
    “Phil, what’s up?” James asked. Phil said something I couldn’t hear and then James told him we were home and to come by. After he hung up and shoved the phone back in his pocket, James answered the question I was about to ask. “Phil says he’s found something and needs to talk to us,” James told me. Phil must’ve been on his way because he showed up only ten minutes later. I hoped he had something important for us.
    “I’ve made some progress. I’ve been able to identify an individual in the licensing office in San Francisco that has connections to Victoria. I’m on my way up there to talk with the individual. The complaint against Simone was, in fact, filed by Roland Talent and by your record label James. I can’t prove it yet, but I think Victoria and someone over there are sleeping together. That’s might explain how easily they went along with her demands,” Phil said.
    “What about Sylvia?” I asked.
    “There’s no doubt she’s being paid by Victoria. I’ve got a few leads including one that might explain her injuries. I’ve found a Hollywood makeup artist that is connected to her. I’ve yet to track down her photographer or the woman that accosted you Simone, but it’s