Taking one of the chopsticks, Vanessa picked off a bit of the egg and narrowed her eyes at the rest of it as she chewed. “Okay, I think century eggs can get spoiled. Surprise surprise,” she muttered, putting her chopsticks down and resignedly picking up her phone. “Come to me, okay, so do we want bagels, pizza or pasta? Carbs are my friend right now.”
“Whutchu talkin’ bout,” Tina demanded, reaching for another egg. “These are perfectly fine.” She obeyed, scooting closer to Vanessa and laying her head on her shoulder, chewing loudly into her ear. “We want all of the above, obviously. Well, I do. You’re a model. Carbs are your sworn enemy, last time I checked. They’re okay for middle aged spinsters though, so I’m all good.”














