Scars of Love
And you definitely did not belong in the bed of Jake.
A number of heads were turned in adjoining tables. I clenched my teeth, and I was forced to be calm. I was not going to grant her the satisfaction.
But on one occasion, she made a sweeping motion, and her cup slipped and spilled milk all over my shoes.
"Oh God," said she, smiling at pretence to horror. "Oops."
The shoe was getting wet with the white liquid, cold and humiliating.
Now everybody was staring.
Cassandra bent down, pretending to help. "You had better clean that out, or you will start to smell of rotten milk."