“Ask me a question,” I tell her, feeling suddenly, well, spontaneous. She inhales on the cigarette, then blows out. “So what do you do?”

“What do you think I do?” And frisky too.
“A model?” She shrugs. “An actor?”
“No,” I say. “Flattering, but no.”
“Well?”
“I’m into, oh, murders and executions mostly. It depends.”

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