The woman lifted her shoulders up to her ears and her eyes went dreamy, not like Daisy was calling her sugar, but like Channing Tatum had just kissed her cheek.
I looked to the ceiling.
Then I looked to Annette.
“Does Roxie know about this?” I asked.
“No,” she answered.
“Indy?” I went on.
“No,” she said.
“Anyone but Daisy, Tex, Jet and me?” I pressed.
“No,” she repeated.
“Do you see how this might not be taken positively?” I kept going.
“No,” Annette replied.
I drew in breath.
One of the women moved to the coffee counter and declared, “I need a Tex coffee.”
“Me too,” another one said as she followed.
“Totally!” a third one cried.
“Tex, will you be in a picture with me holding one of your coffees?” the fourth one put her life in her hands to ask as she approached.
Tex’s angry glower shifted to me and he boomed, “Do something!”
All the women looked to me.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
The women looked to Tex.
“Something!” he shouted.
The women looked to me.
“Tex, they’re buying coffees. And it’s likely they’re gonna tip. That’s more cat treats for the kitties,” I pointed out.
The women looked to Tex.
“The cats got enough treats.”
The women looked back to me.
“You do realize that you’re giving them the show they came for and if you just shut your trap and made them coffees, it would probably be over a lot faster.”
The women looked at Tex.
Tex’s mouth snapped shut.
Finally.