Tony cocks his head at Jane. “Not sweeter than you—” “You’re not flirting with my client,” I cut him off now. “Is that how it—” “Yeah, that’s how it is,” I growl. “I don’t know why you’re here or how you know about the fake dating op, but one thing’s certain—you don’t know me and you sure as fucking hell don’t know my type. If you did, you’d realize it’s the girl right next to me.”
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