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I look back toward the office. “No chicken and waffle sandwiches today?”

“Nope. I had a little too much wine last night. My stomach has been queasy all morning,” she says.

“Maybe you shouldn’t drink on work nights,” I suggest.

“I shouldn’t drink wine on work nights. That stuff is a whole different kind of hangover than beer. I only had it because Jena was buying last night, and then I passed out in the Jeep on the way home. Which caused Ted to be snippy this morning. Now, I owe him apology sex,” she gripes.

“Apology sex?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of like make-up sex, but you have to do all the extra stuff,” she explains.

“Extra stuff?”

“Yeah, girl. You know, the stuff that you always promise but never follow through on unless you forgot his birthday or you accidentally spent the rent money on new boots.”

“Oh, that extra stuff,” I say.

She nods. “Yep.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Thanks. I bought some super-skanky lingerie, so I’m sure it won’t take too long.”

I laugh.

“How did your night end?” she asks.

“It ended with me cuddled up to my body pillow, watching a serial killer documentary on television.”

She frowns. “Ugh, I was hoping it would be juicier than that. I’m dying to know what that man has going on underneath that fireman’s uniform,” she grumbles.

“What can I say? Corbin’s a gentleman.”

“Bastard,” she grumbles. Then, she slides her eyes to me. “I’m sure you can corrupt him.”

I’m sure I can. Not that I plan to.

She stands.“I need to get out of this heat. It’s making me want to barf again,” she announces.

“I’ll pop in the office before I leave,” I tell her, and she walks off, leaving me to my music.

My solitude is short-lived though because my phone starts ringing.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hi, Maxi. It’s Corbin Tuttle.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say.

“You do?”

“Your name is in my phone,” I clarify.

“Right.”

There is an awkward pause.

“Corbin? Do you need something?” I prompt.

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