“Come on. Don’t quit on me now. I have a deep inner need to make you like me, and I feel like I’m getting close.” With a roll of my eyes, I toss back the last of my margarita. “I like you just fine, Gwen,” I grumble as I reach for her hand. “That’s what you keep saying. But I’m not settling for fine,” she volleys, giving my arm an eager tug.
