“I’m Bridgetteee,” she exaggerates, before giggling to herself. “We met earlier this week.” I give her a tight smile as I nod again. “I remember, you were bent over my bed.” She snickers at that, covering her mouth as she nods. “Sorry about that. You know how it is, when Asher Putnam asks you to jump, you fling yourself right off the bridge.” I actually can’t relate to that statement, at all. I’m not sure I would willingly do a single thing for Asher Putnam.
