Chapter Seven
Connie was an attractive girl, no doubt, but somehow the look seemed contrived: Connie’s own perception of what a news woman should look like. She was superficial, Taz thought. Her beauty, skin deep, didn’t go all the way to the core.
Connie hesitated in the doorway, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She spotted Taz and her muffin, turned to the counter to fill a mug with coffee, then sidestepped between empty tables. “Azaria... where’s Bozo? You manage to pull yourself out from under his belly long enough to come here and apologize?” She dropped her mug onto the table and haughtily plumped her bottom down.
Taz felt her feet go sweaty and the hairs lifted on the backs of her arms but she maintained the simmer and, prying another date from her muffin, she popped it into her m
