Black-clad waiters and waitresses sashayed smoothly between the tables dispensing old-fashioned food at newfangled prices. Anna and Katie were seated at a corner table well away from the loudest group of suits who were ordering expense-account champagne to celebrate some deal or other. “So tell me,” inquired Anna, “this boyfriend, Alexander. Is it serious?” Katie Braddock clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. Anna tapped her on the arm and said, “Well, is it?” “It’s getting that way.” “How exciting. A Russian in the family.” “Whoa, Auntie A, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” Anna chuckled. “When are you going to stop calling me Auntie and call me Anna? It makes me feel so old.” Katie grasped her companion’s wrist and squeezed it affectionately.
