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“I’ll be back with the sandwiches,” she said. “But I had some leftover seven-layer dip.” “Yum.” Percy dug in with a tortilla chip. “She’s kinda famous for this, guys.” Sally ruffled his hair. “There’s guacamole, sour cream, refried beans, salsa—” “Seven layers?” I looked up in wonder. “You knew seven is my sacred number? You invented this for me?” Sally wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, actually, I can’t take credit—” “You are too modest!” I tried some of the dip. It tasted almost as good as ambrosia nachos. “You will have immortal fame for this, Sally Jackson!” — Rick Riordan
I’ll be back with the sandwiches,” she said. “But I had some leftover seven-layer dip.”
“Yum.” Percy dug in with a tortilla chip. “She’s kinda famous for this, guys.”
Sally ruffled his hair. “There’s guacamole, sour cream, refried beans, salsa—”
“Seven layers?” I looked up in wonder. “You knew seven is my sacred number? You invented this for me?”
Sally wiped her hands on her apron. “Well, actually, I can’t take credit—”
“You are too modest!” I tried some of the dip. It tasted almost as good as ambrosia nachos. “You will have immortal fame for this, Sally Jackson!