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He laughs. “Exactly.”

“What are you up to this weekend?” I ask him.

“I’m going to Versailles. There’s going to be a fashion show, and...”

“Don’t tell me you’re in it.”

“I’m in it,” he says. “You know it.”

“For what designer?”

“Oh, a small designer you’ve never heard of before in your life.”

“Tell me. Maybe I have.”

“Have you heard of Jacques Montegue?”

“No, I haven’t.” I laugh. “Are they famous?”

“Totally not famous, but he’s very attractive. I think he’s going to ask me out on a date, so I agreed to be part of this fashion show.”

“I have a question, Romeo.”

“Yeah?”

“If he’s so unfamous, how come the Palace of Versailles is letting him have a fashion show there?”

“There’s a little technical detail that hasn’t been ironed out.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that the Palace of Versailles doesn’t know there’s going to be a fashion show there. We bought five tickets, and we’re going to put on an impromptu one.”

“Oh, my gosh, Romeo, am I going to have to bail you out of Parisian jail or something?”

“Versailles is not in Paris, so no.”

“French jail, then?”

“I don’t think so.” He laughs. “Hopefully not.”

“Oh, I wish I was there with you. I would love to see you strutting your stuff in the gardens.”

“I know. I would love for you to see me do it, too. By the way, bitch, send me a photograph of your hotty boss tomorrow.”

“I’m not a bitch, and I’m not sending you a photograph.”

“Please! I’ve got to see the man that has made you take a job for the first time in your life.”

“Fine, I’ll send you a photo.” I let out a deep sigh, “Anyway, I should probably get off the phone now because long-distance calls are still expensive, and we’re chatting on…”

“What’s that, bitch? This is free.”

“True.” I giggle. “But I need to get ready for tomorrow.”

“Okay. Good luck. Break a leg.”

“I’m not acting, you know. I don’t need to break a leg.”