Dan! How the hell are ya?!” said the guy with the teeth, grabbing Dan’s hand and pumping it up and down almost frantically. He looked like a demented Ken doll. “You’re looking quite dashing tonight, Dan,” said the cold-looking woman in an even colder voice. “Isn’t he, Felicity?” she asked the sullen young woman. I had never seen a more inappropriately named person in my life. She would have made Wednesday Addams look like Doris Day. “Yes, mother,” Felicity answered without even glancing in Dan’s direction. The skinny older man said nothing. I almost didn’t see him standing there for a moment. He blended in so well with the white tent wall. “And you must be the fabulous Hannah Adams,” Mr. Teeth, who I suspected was Cole Stephenson, the lecherous politician, went on, while speaking directly to my boobs. Fabulous? “Hannah,”Dan said, pulling me closer to him, “these are the Masons and this is…” “Cole Stephenson at your service,” Mr. Teeth said, nodding like a bobble-head doll and giv
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