January 11/365

“You aren’t staying,” Nann growled, before Mary Margaret had even pulled her suitcase up the stairs. The job in San Jose had ended last week, and for once, there was a lag before the new one would start up. Two months, no plans.

“No, Nann. I’m on vacation. You know that.”

“Alone?” The bright eyes looked over Mary Margaret’s shoulder.

“I’ve got a man in my bag, just in case.” Mary Margaret was thirty.

“Order him online?” the old woman laughed. “Could come in handy.”

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