Daria The night is passing slowly. I'm sitting by the bar, enjoying my break, while glancing at Wilder's table. The blonde girl is hugging his bicep with both her arms tightly knit around it—who is she? I heard someone in their company call her Evelyn. Gosh, even her name sounds like a daydream. She is way prettier than me and probably an actress. The woman has that slim body that says I-count-every-single-calorie-that-I-eat, and I realize it's none of my business who Wilder flirts with, but come on, he gave me a phone! How fast do these actors move on? Irritated, I keep slurping on my coca-cola with a straw until finally, a door opens and reveals the dancefloor. Jessica, the woman who pushed me the salver earlier, smiles at me from behind the counter. I wouldn't say I liked Jessica at first, but the woman is growing on me. She takes the job seriously, and after having seen me in action, she decided I was worthy of her respect. "You've
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