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Chapter 20: Spilled Tea

“I really appreciate you seeing me, especially so close to Fashion Week.”

Sixty-something dark haired Ava Marchant smiled across her ultra-feminine French Country style desk, “You are most welcome, Raven. What an enchanting name. It certainly suits a model.”

The surroundings fit almost perfectly with how Raven had been imagining them. Nothing was missing except Ava having a French accent.

There was not much of that in Springfield, ...

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