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He doesn't repeat the request, his small eyes, pink like ballet, warn her not make him say anything twice. She removes that day's army of hair pins, the hair elastic. The hair net.
Lloyd was sitting alone at his desk.
"Great matchmaking, thanks," he glared, not inviting his wife to sit. Candice invited herself, sank into Lloyd's corporate sofa, maroon leather with padded seats. The caca sofa, as she and Sara called it.
Bianca would always remember her first kiss with Baldur. To get it, she had religiously observed her grandfather's instructions, given on her sixth birthday:
Peggy did not impress when she first stepped into Madame Schkaff’s school. A dark-haired, dark-eyed girl, with large feet and stout legs, and in control of neither.
Once upon a beach there were two boys. The princeling and the fat boy.
It was a Tuesday, the sky recently sprayed. Night was slowly loading. Our arrival on the planet proceeded without a glitch.
They rolled down the windows, letting in buckets of warm, tar-scented air. Bursts of frenetic salsa filled the car. The girl talked about LA in a low voice. No one understood a word.
The girls spent their days at the indoor pool, circled by a pack of teenage boys.
He wanted to see his wife throw some dividends, he wasn’t running a charity after all. But anyone can see that mixing Bei and business is not a good idea.
Tonzino and the duchess had one thing in common, they were both sticklers, you know, detail-oriented people, baaah! What a drag! I hate sticklers!
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