Before you can make a decision, you’re bumped from behind.
You turn around to see a brunette woman whose name is Stephanie, you somehow know. She’s obviously just arriving at work, in a fairly sensible, professional-looking skirt and blouse. She’s attractive, but nowhere near your level -- in fact, she appears to only be about a B-cup.
”Another good lunch, huh?” she says with a bit of a scowl on her face. You realize that you’re still holding your large stack of cash in one hand, since you were distracted when you opened your locker and saw the wishing note.
You thought you had the piece of paper in your other hand, but it’s not there, so you must have dropped it when Stephanie bumped into you.
You look at the floor. So does Stephanie. The paper is literally on top of her feet. You both reach down.