My friend, famous and beautiful, one of those fantastic ladies that look like they made life their b*tch (ridiculous expression, yet, in her case, so appropriate), has all of the secrets to glamour and charisma, and knew exactly what I needed when I asked her what I should get for my husband’s birthday.
“This.” She said as I received a photo of herself in her lingerie, so sexy that I gasped.
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It was a few years ago. We sat around the tiny coffee table, under the platanes, the plane trees that line every city square in France and whose seeds, come spring, have you scratching anytime there is a gust of wind.
The air was crisp, but she wanted to sit outside. We ordered coffees and sat quietly, watching her children play in an improvised playground right in front of us.
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