Sex, Lies and Designer Shoes. Kimberly Van Meter
your life.”
She didn’t have to listen to this. Or did she? Where was she supposed to go? She was stuck in a tiny room. “Okay, story hour is over. Somehow we can’t even have a basic conversation without insulting one another. How about we just spend the next couple of days refraining from saying a single word to one another. Sound like a plan?”
“I have one final thing to say about this, because it seems like no one else in your life has the balls to tell you what you don’t want to hear. Anyone who would encourage you to get shit-faced drunk or high on pills doesn’t care about you—you’re simply the entertainment for the night. So you have money... No one says you have to act like an asshole. You could be giving. You could be generous. You could make lives better for other people. But instead you spend your time thinking only of yourself and how everything in the world affects you. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but the world is bigger than the circle you’re occupying.”
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