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Bri

“Something tasty from behind the counter?” The hottest woman working the coffee shop asked me. It’s the first time in the months that I’ve been coming here that she apparently noticed me. Rarely has a week gone by that I didn’t notice she was wearing a different black sweater, a different knitted bracelet, a new pair of her earrings.

We smiled at each other for a few moments, before it became uncomfortable, appreciating the innuendo.

It must be a good hair day. I’ll take it.

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