“Betwixt and between,” I said. “That’s the worst.” “Is that a poem?” Niamh asked. “Darnell is an idiot,” Lara said, pointing a french fry menacingly at Niamh. “Besides, the problem isn’t the city. If he got a job offer there I bet you he’d move in a heartbeat. He’s just intimidated by the thought of following around a strong woman while she chases her career instead of the other way around.” “Preach!” said Niamh, raising her Diet Coke in a toast.”
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