9
Angela
When Jackie takes me inside for dinner, I’m still trying to get over the view from what she described as her patio, which I’d call more of an outside living room.
She leads me to the dining table and I sit facing the artwork I stopped at earlier. I recognized it instantly, but didn’t want to say. I didn’t want to start our evening that way.
A replica of it hung on the wall of the hotel room we spent the night in. We both thought it a great piece and saw it as luck shining down upon us, what with having found the only hotel room in the world without tacky wall decoration.
I can’t believe she went out and bought the exact same thing—and gave it such a prominent place in her spectacular home.
“I have made for you”—She shows up next to me with a plate in her hands—“Roast chicken
