“Aren’t you… What’s her name? From the show last night.”

“What’s her name?” she asked, incredulous. “What’s her name?!“

“Yeah… Uh… Sylvia Bi…”

“Sylvia Bach, you son of a bi…”

“Uh, uh,” he chided. “If I can’t say it, you can’t. Fair’s fair.”

“So, you were at the performance?” she asked.

“It was okay, except for that screeching bimbo that was the lead…”

“Screeching bimbo?!” she yelled.

“Yeah!” He smiled. “Just like that!”

She opened her mouth to reply, the realized, “You’re making fun of me.” She frowned.

He put on his best Who? Me? face. “No, no. I would never do that to a rising star like you.” His smile widened, and he winked at her. “I wanted to see your reaction to a Philistine who doesn’t appreciate living art.”

She couldn’t maintain the frown, and a grin broke across her face. ”’Living art’. Going a little overboard, aren’t you?”

“Not as much as that two-bit hack you guys call a director. But I want to talk about you.”

“Oh, I can see the start of a beautiful friendship.”