An Air That Kills

I stole time away from work on Friday for lunch with my friend, Patrick.  Last month, when I encountered him by chance out strolling in my neighborhood, I dug into my pocket and gave him The Vixen Divorcee’s business card.  After we parted I thought, “Georgia, are you insane!  What were you thinking?  Now he’s going to think you are the biggest bit of inane mental fluff imaginable.”

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