Mi Amor
“I’ll call you later.”
I hurried home for a quick shower and change, then picked up Jean-Jacques. The service had already begun when we arrived, and we ducked into the social hall and made sure that the decorations were going up, and that the caterer was preparing. We reconfirmed with Flo Rida’s people, as well as the dancers and the guy delivering the wooden dance floor. The DJ, a local rapper/graffiti artist named Kool Kelly, set up in the corner.
“Sorry, dude, I forgot my CD of Jewish music,” he said, his headphones around his neck and his jeans hanging down off his ass.