Sandi was admiring a pair of glossy black pumps when she said to me, “Look at these. Aren’t they to die for?”

I kept my expression calm, even though inside I was turning cartwheels. “Where’d you get them?” I asked, reaching out to touch the heels. It was like the shoes gave off little sparks, crackling between the smooth patent leather and my fingertips.

Sandi tossed her head a little, shifting her dark bangs back and away from her eyes. It was a signature move of hers — sassy, sexy and so Sandi.

She told me the name of the boutique, and I recalled it being one of her favorite places to shop.

“But that’s not all,” she said teasingly.

Sandi leaned to one side, reaching for the shopping bag she’d set down beside our bed... Read More