... having been breathed out

Sneaking in under the wire (at least where I am). I'm really not feeling this story this weekend & just want to keep doing research and backstory-creation for my WWI Canadians, but I did write about 1500 words on it, between one thing and another:

"Anyway," said Eleanor, "you've got this really annoying coworker who keeps, like, bothering you to be friends."

She glanced pointedly at Tahani, who swallowed.

"I don't want friends," she said, in her best American accent. "I prefer to be alone."

"Correct. Which is why you've been dodging this woman for months. But now you find out, she has two tickets to see Beyoncé at the stadium in the next town over, for her and her boyfriend."

"Oh I adore Beyoncé!" Tahani said. "Lovely woman. At my gala to benefit education for girls in developing regions of—"

"Yes," Eleanor said, sternly. "You do 'adore' her. Everyone 'adores' her. Which is why you want that ticket. Also, and I know this one'll be a stretch for you, but: debt collection doesn't pay great. You're broke. What do you do?"