“Damn Jazz Chester. Damn him to hell. And as long as she was angry and hurt, she might as well add Simon Hunt's name to the list. Damn Simon too. Damn him for being right, and damn him for not being there now, of all times, when she needed him the most. Frankie opened her eyes and stared at the numbers lighting up above the elevator door. One more floor. She'd promised herself she wouldn't cry until she made it into her room and locked the door behind her. But her knuckles on her right hand were... bruised and raw from punching Jazz in the face. It was the final blow to both her pride and her psyche—the straw of pain and embarrassment that was trying its hardest to break the camel's back. Frankie couldn't hold in slightly hysterical-sounding laughter. She'd punched Jazz Chester in the face. God help her if Simon ever found out. She and Leila had once argued with Simon for hours over the theory that women were superior to men because they reacted to bad news and disappointment by discussing their emotions rather than internalizing or lashing out.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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