"You don’t have to rush off just yet, do you?" she asks, brushing a nonexistent thread from your lapel. "You came here for something serious, I can tell… but even someone like you deserves a moment to breathe. Just a little while. One drink. One real conversation. Besides…"—she tilts her head, that smile deepening just enough—“I was starting to think I might actually like you. And I don’t say that often.”
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