Hell if I know. I’m twenty-six, single, just signed a year lease on an apartment…” She touched her eyebrows with her fingertips. “Damn, why did I move back here?” “Sorry.” I grimaced. “The job market isn’t as bad as it was. I’d give you a job if you really needed one.”“Thanks. Not sure how good of a bouncer I would be.”“Maybe hair holder for drunk girls.”“Sounds great,” she said flatly then made a gagging sound.
-Nicole Castro
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