Chapter 54 The DONUT Diaries
Chapter fifty-four
The DONUT Diaries
Okay, so you've read the book. You know The Donut. You know Margit, you know the krémes, you probably know the Wall. And you definitely know me, Tristan—I'm the one with the perfectly timed commentary.
But here's the thing: You don't know the whole story.
You don't know how those four women—Sam, Liv, Nadia, Priya, the ones who somehow became a unit despite having approximately zero things in common at first—actually met.
You don't know why this place is called The Donut when Margit would literally fight you if you asked for a donut.
And you definitely don't know how I went from "new hire who talks too much" to "My Drama," which is Margit's version of a term of endearment.
So here's what I'm gonna do: I'm going to tell you the stories that didn't make it into the book. The ones that explain how The Donut became The Donut. The ones Margit would roll her eyes at me for telling, but she'd also bring me krémes halfway through, so we both know she approves.
Pull up a chair. Grab a coffee—black, no room, the way we make it here. Maybe steal one of those krémes from the case while Margit's in the back (I won't tell).