But her shoes were the real kicker. They were thigh-high black patent leather boots with a platform heel, giving her an extra six inches. I gave her thirty minutes max before she twisted an ankle and spent the rest of the night on crutches. “How in the world did you get in those?” I asked, pointing to the boots. “Myrtle helped. Myrtle and a little baby oil.” “Wouldn’t that make your feet slide?” “No. I got the boots a half size too small to help with the slipping. Trust me, I’ve done my research.” “Been talking online to strippers again?” “They have a lot of beauty tips. I mean, they have to
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