Rhy Moore

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“I thought we talked about your appearance,” he said. “I have one business suit. This is it. My hair is too short to pin up.” “Makeup?” “Not wearing any,” I said. “I’m twenty-four. I don’t need to trowel it on.” He nudged his shades up and opened the car door. I got in.
Rhy Moore
He's calling you pretty
Omens (Cainsville, #1)
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