Okay, so who would it be tonight? The Fukimoto’s running of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s with Jeffrey, or dinner at L’Auberge with Cindy? Ned checked his peter meter and tonight it was pointing toward Cindy.
L’Auberge it would be. So he fired up Mama’s Eldorado (she wouldn’t let him take the Bentley, that witch) and headed to Nob Hill. Cindy tweaked his heartstrings with her black strapless and her bow-tie up-do. She was lovely in that Connecticut way of hers. And dinner at L’Auberge – beef bourgignon with haricot verts, and for dessert –
“You traitor!” came the assault from the other side of the room. Jeffrey stormed over to them, hands on both hips like a washing machine spin cycle. “You gave up Audrey Hepburn and George Peppard for … for this …”
Cindy gave a round O, as if to say, “Is this man for real?” but Jeffrey continued.
“… for this … why, she’s a lovely reincarnation of Audrey! Where ever did you get that dress? And your up-do … did Felix do that this morning? It has his signature all over it!”
Meat-wise, Ned didn’t want the roosters – he preferred the hens this evening.
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