![]() My best friend got to work, expertly brushing and twisting my hair into a sleek, elegant bun. He sauntered in wearing nothing but Grey Isles boxer briefs, looking not so different from the billboards of him presently gracing phone kiosks and buses around the city. “Can I talk you into helping me with a chignon?” “Thanks.” I dropped my lipstick brush back into its stand. ![]() With a final glance at my cheval mirror, I headed into the bathroom to put on my makeup.Ī short time later, Cary poked his head in. Opposite sides of the same, sharp blade …
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