Abby went back out into the hallway to wait at the elevator with several others. She smiled and nodded at them, but they were all in their own groups, talking among themselves. Once she’d been named a manager, she found her circle of work friends had changed. That circle had gotten quite a bit smaller. When the elevator dinged, everyone stood back, letting her get on first. Well, being a manager had its perks, she supposed.

As usual, Sharon had beat her outside, and she’d snagged their favorite table under the oak tree. Today she was eating an apple.

Abby raised an eyebrow as she sat down.

“I read that if you eat an apple before your meal, it’ll help in weight loss,” Sharon said as she bit into it.

“Are you on a new diet again? I thought you were doing that Paleo thing or something.”

“I tried it for a month. Did you know you can’t eat grains or beans?”

She took out her sandwich. “Yes, I remember you complaining about that.”

“You know how I love my rice and bean burritos.”

She took a bite. “From El Arroyo, yes.”

“Yes. So I decided that the Paleo Diet was not for me.”

“So now what? The apple diet?”

Sharon glared at her and pointed the apple in her direction. “Look, just because you’re thin as a rail doesn’t mean—”

“I am not thin as a rail. Your problem is, you skip breakfast and then you eat rabbit food for lunch. By dinner time, you’re starving and go on a food binge. Eat some damn breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry in the mornings.”

“That’s because you’ve stuffed yourself silly the night before.” She opened her bag of chips. “So, listen, what are you doing for the holidays? Want to go to Red River with me?”

Sharon laughed. “Still haven’t found a date, huh?”

“No.”

“Well, I think my husband might miss me. You think?”

“I suppose.”

“You still have a few more weeks.” She tapped the table. “There she is again.”

Abby knew who she was talking about before she turned her head. “Yes, she’s cute, but she looks a little too earthy for me.”

“Earthy?”

“That’s a polite way of saying she has dirt on her knees, like usual. Not my type.”

“Do you need a type? I thought it was a fake date.” She motioned to her. “Go ask her.”

“I will not! She’s a stranger. How would that look? I proposition her? She’ll think I’m crazy.”

Sharon smiled. “No doubt. But you’re the one who thinks you need a fake date.”