Robbie Forester And The Outlaws Of Sherwood Street (2012) - Plot & Excerpts
Her apartment was on the ground floor, but it looked a lot like ours: we even had the same kind of fridge. One big difference was all these professional-type photos on the living-room walls, the same beautiful young woman in each of them. Ashanti noticed me staring at them and said, “My mom—back in her modeling days.” “Wow,” I said. “She was a professional model?” “Uh-huh.” “Hey! This one’s a Vogue cover.” “Yeah.” “Wow,” I said again. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful. Ashanti—lighter-skinned than her mother—was beautiful, too, but not like this, so perfect, so dramatic. “She’s not a model anymore?” Ashanti shook her head. “They’re like athletes,” she said. “All washed-up at thirty-five, sooner in her case.” “What does she do now?” I said. Ashanti glanced down the hall. “At this very moment?” she said. “Probably resting.” “Oh,” I said. I got the impression—maybe later than most people would—that Ashanti didn’t feel like discussing her mother.
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