So was Hope. She paced the length of her bedroom as she reasoned with Frieda. “This guy at church likes you, girl. He specifically asked where you were and if maybe the four of us could go out tonight.” “I already told you. He’s too goody-goody for me,” Frieda countered. “I’m a freak.” “Goody-goody? What’s wrong with that? And how would you know? You won’t even take the man’s number. “He’s a good catch, Frieda. A solid, educated professional, not to mention very attractive. Who is causing you even to think twice about this? Giorgio—whose new mistress is the runway—or Shabach—who’s known all over America as a big church ho?” “Now, don’t be too hard on hos,” Frieda said with a smile in her voice. “Some people could use that label on me.” Hope didn’t dare respond to that. “Besides, I feel more comfortable with the Giorgios and Shabachs. Your church friend is out of my league.” “Do you really believe that, Frieda? That you’re not good enough for a certain type of man?”
