We ended up at The Executive Lounge, one of Simona’s restaurants.
“Did you get colored contact lenses?” Christy kept staring at me. I felt like hiding under my seat.
“For the third time, no.” I smiled, knowing she was paying me a compliment, but still uncomfortable with the scrutiny. I sipped the wine, not used to alcohol, but since Simona drank it, I figured I should too. Tasted good too, once I got used to it.
“You totally look like a different person. Like, if you ever went in the witness protection program, no one could find you.” Christy took a swig of her IPA. She gave me a sip of it earlier and I wanted to spit it out.
“In a good way, I hope.” I felt blood rushing to my face. Being the center of anyone’s attention was foreign to me.
“Yes, in a most excellent way. Now, tell me a
