Beautiful, Dirty, Rich

She was five months older than me, but that didn’t make her anymore grown up. Actually, one would consider me the more mature of the two of us: she was an Upper East Side princess that had everything handed to her on a platter, while I was a small-town West Coast girl that actually worked. We had nothing in common, other than our last name.

“It is in the character of very few men to honor without envy a friend who has prospered.” – Aeschylus, Greek playwright

The characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended.