Debbie Roth

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I was aware of the twins just over his shoulder staring at me, but with their bodies angled toward each other, murmuring and laughing. One of them—I couldn’t tell them apart—rested her arm casually across the back of his neck. After giving my outfit a cursory glance, they both turned away in disdain. Everything about them was aloof and territorial, even a little dangerous. They were like lithe young tigresses, defending their turf.
Only Say Good Things: Surviving Playboy and Finding Myself
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