“Nice to meet you,” I say, reaching forward to shake Ford’s hand. He’s got polish. He’s dressed casually, but he screams money. I don’t know if the billionaire thing is a joke or not, but I opt not to ask. “Likewise. Even though it’s over bowling.” His lip curls as he looks around. “Hey, hey. Don’t disparage the charm of Rose Valley Alley.” “By charm, he means sticky floors,” Bash mumbles from behind the rim of his pint glass. “Why are they—” West’s arm slices across the space. “Nah. You can’t slander the place like that. It’s an icon. A relic. An attraction.” His finger shoots up
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