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He slides a hand to his waist,his suit coat back to reveal a triht be just what I need to get the funk of Paris off , after all Isn’t everyone supposed to hook up?

“I have a better idea,” I say, waving to the bartender again “We’ll take the bottle”

The well-tipped server is happy to oblige, and I grab it, two glasses, and my black clutch “This way, lawyer”

A small billiards room is off the main ballroom, and it’s completely empty The reception party is focused on the roo into the cozy, dilasses on a tall table with two bar stools

“Do you play?” he asks, stepping over and sliding the cue ball across red felt

“Not billiards” Cracking open the bottle, I pour two glasses mid-way “You’re up”

Stepping to the counter, he lifts one “Skal” With a clink, he slams the entire contents back

“Swedish?” My eyes only pinch a little as I do the same

“No, I only figured if we’re shooting vodka, we should keep it real”

I’ looser than ever “So if you’re not Swedish,” I glance up and give hiton?”

“Chicago” He takes the glass, openly letting his eyes run all over le follows his inspection

“I don’t believe it,” I say, sliding the fur off ive him a better look

“Why?” He moves a bit closer “Too conventional?”

“Chicago is where I live now”

“Now?”