“I thought you looked like someone who could use some company,” Rory said, stretching and then rising from the bed.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
He was she, she was Barry. How had this happened? She was much too young to be an older woman and nowhere near rich enough.
“What do you do?”
“Like I said, I don’t worry about work too much.” He gave her his lovely grin, although she was not quite as charmed by it.
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