“I despise the rituals of fake friendship. I wish we could just claw each other’s eyes out and call it a day; instead we put on huge radiant smiles and spout compliments until our teeth hurt from the saccharine sweetness of it all.”
“A moment of reserve. “That was it? The whole story?”
“Yes. God, you’re right. That was pants.”
I sidestep another aggressive couscous vendor. “Pants?”
“Rubbish. Crap. Shite.”
Pants. Oh heavens, that’s cute.”
I flipped through the book randomly and ended up at page 127.
A few ornaments had also been placed on the desk – a bronze Alsatian, a wooden cat and a paperweight in the shape of an aeroplane – but Justic was more interested in the parts of the room that she wasn’t supposed to explore.