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Chapter Eight

Samson shook his head, trying to let her know that it was no big deal. "There's no problem. I can get it fixed" he replied, handing the towel back to her. The towel didn't do much to fix the stain on his white shirt, but he didn't mind one bit. 

She smiled at him again, and Samson could swear he felt a clench in his gut. 

"Can I get you something to drink" she asked, as she moved to the other side of the counter where the drinks were placed. 

Samson kept his eyes on her. "Yes." he said, "An old fashioned would be nice... And keep it coming" 

...............

Isabella nodded and turned her back to him so she could face the bar. She had no idea what an old fashioned was, nor did she know how to make one. But she did know that she didn't want to embarss herself in the presence of this incredibly handsome man. 

She had only been working at

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