Page 547 - Anonymous
P. 547
I SIT at the bar and wait for Willis. If
there is one thing that annoys me about
Michael Willis, it’s the fact that he is
always late. I’m on my second beer when
he strolls in. I wave him over, frowning
as he approaches.
“You’re late.” I narrow my eyes at
him.
“I thought you said seven?” he
smirks.
