Having just sent a handwavey e-mail to Tseng that began with the words, "I swear I'm not freakin' drunk, but bear with me," Reno felt it was safe to finally poke through the e-mails that he'd been ignoring all weekend while typing up that stupid report.
He ran through the typical gamut of "junk, junk, spam, junk with spam filling, junk,
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Comments 17
"Hmm?"
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"C'mere for a moment, would you?"
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"Just got your e-mail," he said casually.
Perhaps too casually.
Far too casually.
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