You feed like one, he said. But if my idea tanks, and they get nothing out of it, you will write them a personal check for ten grand. That about sums it up, I said. He turned at the bathroom door, and said, Fuck, Anita, you are the better man.
He didn't argue, just started down toward the end of the hallway. I didn't collapse. I knew that he was just this side of a con-man, a swindler, but he knew, or suspected, that I was just this side of a cold-blooded killer. There was always something neat about Dr.
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