Birthday Girls Page 36
by Jean Stone
Oh, hell no.
With a violent twist of her hands, Julie uncorked the champagne and took a long swig as she marched out of the kitchen, her head reeling from Kelli’s bomb.
There was only one thing worse than having to write this story.
And that was having Kelli-with-an-i write it for her.
Movie night, here I come.
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