“Let me ask you a question then,” Abigail said in between bites of salad. “What would you do if the perfect person walked through those doors right now? What would you do?”
Katherine blinked and trying to imagine her perfect person. He would be tall, good-looking but not ridiculously good looking, well-mannered, intelligent, funny, kind, warm-hearted, and patient. Very, very patient. She tried to imagine what he’d look like. Would he have brown hair? Blonde? Black? Freckles? Fair-skinned? What? What would he look like?
“Nothing, because he doesn’t exist,” Katherine said after a minute of thinking.
Just the door opened.