Would you girls like a free measuring—”
“Put the damn measuring tape away,” Vee ordered. “I already know my size. I don’t need reminding.
Did they look like anyone we know? For example… a cross between Pippi Longstocking and the Wicked Witch of the West would obviously give us Marcie Miller.
Becca FitzpatrickI’m not going to kill you, Nora. I don’t kill people who are important to me. And you top the list.
Becca FitzpatrickThe older woman waiting for admittance looked at me, then over her shoulder at Patch, who was vanishing down the hall. “Honey,” she told me, “he looks slippery as soap.
Becca FitzpatrickA girl could lather up in soap like that.
Becca FitzpatrickAre we going to have to teach you to fight, Angel?
Becca FitzpatrickWhat is it with girls?” Elliot said, splitting a smile between us. “I swear, I’ve never known a girl who could go to the bathroom alone.” He leaned forward and grinned conspiratorially. “Let me in on the secret. Seriously. I’ll pay you five bucks each.” He reached for his back pocket. “Ten, if I can come along and see what the big deal is.
Becca FitzpatrickI need to get back to work,” Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. “Killer skirt. Deadly legs.
Becca FitzpatrickThere was no sign of Jules.
“Bad news,” said Elliot. “The man is sick. You’re going to have to settle for me.”
“Sick?” Vee demanded. “How sick? What kind of excuse is sick?”
“Sick as in it’s coming out both ends.”
Vee scrunched her nose. “Too much information.
Do you want to possess my body?"
I want to do a lot of things to your body, but that’s not one of them.
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