Sometimes, there’s nothing more refreshing than a night with the girls. An evening of relaxing with my best friends, not worrying about counting calories or fussing with my make-up. Spilling secrets that I’ve waited weeks to tell, hearing stories that make us all sigh with envy. It’s the kind of friendship that novelists crave to be privy to; our tales are our own, they are what bind us together. It was an evening of “what was she thinking?”s and “aww!”s, and a night of catching up with a friend who normally resides 3,000 miles away.

So we sat for hours. Perched on poolside chairs on the top floor of a DC high-rise apartment, the nation’s capitol stretched for miles in either direction, listening as the stories kept on coming.

Happy Tuesday!