Lulu's trend of careful listening continued. She took Marcus' words in, eyes widening slightly as he continued; then, in a moment of spectacular poise, she burst out laughing.
"If you think I'm 26 or 27, then yes. I am." That was the best part. She loved being mistaken for younger than her 32 -- and she knew it was coming every time, but it never ceased to be wonderful. Of course, she'd pay for it later, in her forties: that would be the decade where she suddenly woke up one day and looked exactly her age. If she lived that long, anyway -- which she just might, considering she ws not stupid, though, and not a slut.
The rest of Marcus' going-on was just as amusing. Lulu leaned forward conspiratorially in reply. "My man ought to have been in a circus. Hoops. D'you want to know something awful...?" (Not that it really was; in truth, it was wonderful that Jon had survived, and any awfulness came from not knowing what to do about it.)
"He's here now. At Sing Sing. But we broke up ages ago -- ages... Or I left him. But you know, specifics." Lulu waved a hand impatiently, realizing that she was enforcing Marcus' analysis. A lot of effort. Well, what if she was?