“Wow, the sexual tension between you and Charlie is really bomb-dot-com tasty.” “Oh my god, where did you learn that term?” she asks, tossing the T-shirt and olive overalls on the bed. Maybe if she rolls up the legs a couple times and adds in one of her dangly necklaces . . . “The spiky-haired guy on the food show says it. Didn’t I use it right?” She thinks for a moment. “Do you mean Guy Fieri?” “Yes, him! Ellen loved her some Triple D. I like it too. That cat is really money.”
