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Just Her Type

Just Her Type

  • Una Penthouse Letter de A.E., via email

Book clubs can be completely fucking boring. Like boring, boring. Still, I do go to one because my friend Julia begged me to tag along with her. She was in the club with her boss, a ridiculously mundane but pleasant enough woman.

I’d agreed, and there I sat, talking about a thriller I’d found to be fair but not mind-blowing — except for one part.

“And the twist, where it’s the neighbor… well, I was blown away,” said Sandra, the boring boss.

I finished off my wine and said, “Speaking of blown away, I found a different part particularly entertaining.”

Cecile, the host, got a look in her eye, and I guessed she was thinking about the same thing I was. We exchanged knowing smiles.

“What part was that?” Julia asked with...

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