“I can’t believe we let him talk us into this,” I complained for the umpteenth time.

Pam sipped her grande nonfat latte. “Remember this all sounded like a great idea at the time. No one held a gun to our heads and made us agree to go along with this play of his.”

“Not simply a play, sugar,” Connie Sue said, returning with smoothie in hand, in time to overhear Pam’s comment. “A theatrical production.”

Monica nodded grimly. “A theatrical production he’s written himself.”

“And plans to star in,” Pam added. “As well as produce and direct.”

I frowned, not caring if I might need Botox down the road. “Don’t know much about the theater, but even to an amateur such as myself, it sounds overly ambitious.”

Monica blew on her herbal tea to cool it. “Since we’re all involved, maybe the marquee should read ‘Babes on Broadway.’ ”

“Great idea, sugar, but I’m afraid it’s already been done.” Connie Sue took a long pull on the straw of her pink smoothie.

We stared at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, finding us looking at her strangely. “Most everyone knows Babes on Broadway was a musical, back in the forties I think, with Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney.”

I shook my head in wonderment. “Connie Sue Brody, sometimes you amaze me. When did you turn into the trivia queen?”

She shrugged prettily. “I declare, sweetie, growin’ older is gettin’ harder and harder. Some nights I can’t catch a wink, so I end up watchin’ old movies on one of those cable networks.”

“Getting back to the matter at hand,” I said, stirring my cinnamon-laced cappuccino, “the deal breaker came when Lance promised opening night proceeds would benefit Janine’s favorite cause, Pets in Need.”

“Especially since she’s the newly elected president.” Pam nodded her agreement. “You know how she’s always talking about a new animal shelter.”