I mean—I mean to do what I can. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. “Be so good as to stand away from that door at once, sir,” Brendon ordered. He felt no pain from this cowardly kick.
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