Chapter 7
At half passed noon, London’s belief in a higher power was challenged, having had to wake up at the God-awful hour of three a.m. Whoever allowed that time to exist needed to seriously reconsider their humanity—or lack thereof. But her job required middle-of-the-night service assessments, including meals and a moonlight massage. The glamour of it all quickly dissipated in the wee hours of the morning.
But at least it was easy to do her assessments without being distracted by Mateu.
Thank God for Susan. Her girlfriend was better than a triple shot latte. Susan would chat while she painted, demanding London get her ass out of bed, and today had been no different. Her girlfriend was one of those midnight oil burners whose creativity sparked to life when everyone else in the world
