"I need your address," she says matter-of-factly, breaking the spell.
"Oh, right," I say, fumbling for some paper before she produces a small notebook and a pen from her purse. I quickly scribble down my address.
"I'll see you in the morning," I say, feeling completely overwhelmed by this golden-skinned goddess who has just dropped into my life.
"Maybe we can help each other," she says cryptically as she walks away.
I finish my shift in a flurry of activity that has my manager welcoming me back from wherever I've been for the past few weeks. He seems genuinely relieved that I've pulled my head out of my ass and stopped moping around.
I have a restless night dreaming about Barbara and Halle Berry. While Barbara is sitting in Starbucks telling me she hopes I can make her feel better, sh
