It was four days before Christmas, and here I sat at one of the nicest restaurants this side of D.C., across from Roger Falconer.

I'd gone all-out getting dressed this evening in a black knit dress, with heels and hose to boot. Both Cain and Eli had let out low whistles as I came out into the family room to let them know I was taking off.

"Wait a minute," Cain said, narrowing his eyes. "Isn't your date picking you up?"

I rolled my eyes, leaning over to give him a kiss on his cheek. "No, Dad, we're meeting at the restaurant," I replied. "After that debacle with Kenneth, I...