My sweetheart's the Man in the Moon

by Stephen Marlowe

"Well, then, prettier."

"Then we're even. After a reporter friend Pop once had, you could be Tyrone Power."

"Lovely dress you're wearing." He fingered the taffeta at her shoulder, let his hand rest more heavily than necessary. When she pulled away and sat as primly as she could on a straight-backed chair he said the one word, "Business?" He made it a question.

"Business."

"Just how long have you known the Man in the Moon?"

"The Man—really!"

"Oh, that's him. That's your Thomas Bentley. He's the Man in the Moon now."

Jeanne suppressed an unfeminine snicker. "About nine years. High school together, dates, going steady, engaged. The usual middle-sized town sort of thing."

"Love him?"

"Of course. Really, Mr. Lubrano."