"I don't date," she said, her voice soft with a twinge of something. Regret? Insistence? I couldn't tell.
"Then we won't date," I said.
"Just f**k buddies?" she challenged.
I shook my head. "Friends."
"I have enough friends already."
"So what's one more? You really so popular you can't fit me into your busy schedule?"
She sipped her coffee, staring at me as she did so.
"You don't even know me," she said.
"That's the point. I want to get to know you."
"We're nothing alike," she argued, getting up and refreshing her coffee before refreshing mine. "You're . . . ." She looked me up and down, her right eyebrow raised.
"What?"
"A f*****g yuppie."
"So it comes down to clothing?"
She shook her head. "It's more than that and you know it."
"Really? Like because I wear jeans and dress s
