Chapter Three

Utterly grossed out, Jozette got up and dumped the remnants of her tea down the drain, rinsing and washing the cup dutifully. Marissa was gasping for air and wiping her eyes because she was laughing so hard.

Super beyotch.

“Okay, okay. I am sorry for using the m word. Do you wanna talk about what happened with Larry? You never told me the whole story.”

“I don’t think so, Mar. I mean, it’s not them. It’s me!”

“Jozette! That is not true.”

“Of course it is,” she said, grabbing another biscotti.

She deserved it. Heaven, she thought, and moaned around her mouthful of yummy goodness.

“These are really great, by the way,” she mumbled, so as not to drop any.

“Thanks,” Marissa replied, looking pleased with herself.

“So, me and Larry⁠—”

“The unemployed loser who looked a little like Ernest Borgnine after he ate too much,” Marissa chimed in unhelpfully.

“Anyway,” Jozi said, rolling her eyes.