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“What are you looking for?” I ask. “Garbage bags.” I blink. “Can’t take it anymore, huh? Going to off me and drag my body out of the building in a big black bag?” “Don’t be ridiculous, Georgiana.” There it is. “You’re small enough that I could just put your body down the trash chute. Far more practical.” I laugh. “Did you just make a joke?”
If you’re wondering what Andrew Mulroney looks like while he’s in workout mode, picture this: Thor and Captain America somehow defeat biology and have a love child together. And call him Andrew. You’re welcome for the visual.
“Do you ever let loose?” I ask. “Order french fries? Unbutton a button? Have a one-night stand?” “That an invitation?” “Of course I’ll share my fries,” I say, reaching across the table and giving his hand a little pat,