The following is an excerpt from a piece originally featured on The Style Con:
“You got anyone you can set Vance up with?”
I’m sitting on a set of patio furniture likely worth more than what I make in a year, basking in the unadulterated sun that this mansion’s 80 sprawling acres of land provides. A drop of sweat slides down my torso to settle near my waist. I look at Vance. I look at his friends. I consult my mental Rolodex of girls I hate enough to set up with this person.