She was in her fifties, skinny as a dry stick, like all the fluid had been sucked out of her. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight her face wa... permanently stuck in a scowl. She was like a vulture, always hovering at the edges, waiting to swoop in and devour a dying animal."Ms. Shelly, this is work, not a coffee social," she snottily said, looking down at me over her long nose. "Stop flirting with Mr. Upton and do your work. I need those Medicare invoices." I wasn't flirting, Mrs.. He asked her if she was interested in getting out of the club and going somewhere more private. She said yes Sir, and he noted her address of him. She walked along as he rolled out the door to his van, and hit the remote which opened the side door and the ramp came down. He asked her if she wanted to ride with him or if she wanted to follow him in her vehicle. She said she’d go with him that she’d had a friend drop her off at the club earlier.When Abby was inside the ramp came up and in, the. More

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