“Damn. I look fine,” I say, nodding approvingly. “Pay that photographer extra.” Valerie’s eyes are nearly popping out of her head, telling me she’s also surprised about how fine I look. “Do you not see the drowning man in the background?” she asks as she waves to the reporter I’d tossed into the river. “Ooh, this photographer has talent. Look at the angle, August! It gets me, Zacia, and the drowning man,” I say, rather impressed.
