Page 140 - Anonymous

“Hey. Wow, it smells heavenly in

here.” My friend grins. Her chestnut hair

is plaited and swept over her shoulder. I

have no idea how she manages to look

like she just stepped out of a fashion

magazine. My yoga pants and “I Love Ed

Sheeran,” T-shirt are a sorry mess next

to her pleated black pants and white

blouse. She owns a popular bookstore,

and it always fascinates me that after all

her years in business school, she would