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“You’re sick,” I inform him. He shrugs, apparently unconcerned. “Why don’t you want to go to dinner with me?”
As she reviews today’s clip, she shakes her head and tells me, “I’ve already experienced so many blessings this month. Mama giving me Scout, coffee dates with my best friend. I wonder what else the month has in store for me.”
My judgment is cloudy because deep down I want to believe he’s not as bad as he proved he was that day, and when you want to see something so badly, sometimes you invent evidence to support that belief.
“But I’ve never been invited to one of their parties before,” she complains. “Aren’t you the least bit curious?” “You know what? I’m curious what would happen if I reached my hand down that little garbage disposal hole in the sink to retrieve a lost spoon, but not curious enough to try it.
didn’t like the taste of beer, but Carter poured something from a flask into my cup, and it tastes delicious. I thought maybe it was roofie soup and I shouldn’t drink it, but then I remembered Carter has no use for roofie soup because he likes when I fight him.
He nods. “It works out. Then, at the end of the day, we can both take off our public faces, shake off our snobby colleagues, and reconnect with what’s real. Every night, I curl up with a woman who knows me and likes me anyway, and every night, you get to curl up beside a man who finds you as endlessly fascinating as you find your work.”
This place has my favorite dessert in the city, though. An incredible slice of chocolate cake. That’s it, just chocolate cake, but I don’t know what is done to the cake. Obviously, it is dipped in sin and sprinkled with ecstasy, because it is the loveliest thing my taste buds have ever come into contact with.
