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“Who do I have to fuck to get served around here?” Meredith yells, holding up her now-empty Moscow Mule cup and waving it around. Meredith Chambers, hottest romance agent in New York, filthiest mouth east of the Mississippi. Or west, come to think of it. Some women walking by give her a shocked, slightly annoyed expression. She responds with aplomb. “Legs together, ladies. I’m not afraid of a little muff diving.”