I’m standing outside of Scarlett’s office contemplating a reason to knock on the door. It’s fifteen minutes past two, most of the new hires have made their way through the show floor, finished their last cigarette and driven off the lot. April is still here and just passed me on the way to the restroom. She exudes this cotton candy scent every time I see her, and when I sat next to her this...
Mercedes Money | Part Seventeen
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