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“Alex gawked at the baked goods. He sat down on one of the metal barstools. "Feeling stressed out, I see." "Yeah." I passed the platter toward him. "Help yourself to the peach rolls or turnovers. I made them last night, so they're fresh." "We okay?" I nodded. He didn't hesitate. "God, Marygene," he groaned around a mouthful, an expression of awe on his face. "There is nothing like your baked goods. I mean it. I've eaten pastries in all the best shops in Savannah, and nothing compares to yours." Well, that was a real nice compliment. There were ample high-end pastry shops in Savannah.” — Kate Young
Alex gawked at the baked goods. He sat down on one of the metal barstools. "Feeling stressed out, I see."
"Yeah." I passed the platter toward him. "Help yourself to the peach rolls or turnovers. I made them last night, so they're fresh."
"We okay?"
I nodded.
He didn't hesitate. "God, Marygene," he groaned around a mouthful, an expression of awe on his face. "There is nothing like your baked goods. I mean it. I've eaten pastries in all the best shops in Savannah, and nothing compares to yours."
Well, that was a real nice compliment. There were ample high-end pastry shops in Savannah.