At the Mad Batter bakery, Jenny and I sat across from one other. We were consuming our sentiments while sipping vanilla bean frappes from china teacups.
"This is enormous. Mark Lawson had to be the first non-model he's ever spoken to."
"This summer has been a whirlwind," I admitted.
On our plates were 25 cupcakes and a topsy-turvy cake. A plastic pink flamingo with salt and pepper shakers sat on the tablecloth, which was green like grass.
Jenny had heard the whole thing from me. She'd completely forgotten about the South Beach diet.
""I can't believe I haven't been around to see this," she exclaimed as she stuffed a slice of cake into her mouth. I've always thought your car was fortunate."
"Lucky? You are aware that I am at his beck and call till the damages are paid. That isn
