And Beckett wouldn't fall for any of those classic responses, anyway. Not when her feet were crying out for some kind of freedom from her impossibly high heels and her face was itching to get scrubbed clean of any remaining makeup.
"Something like that," she replies, rising from her seat with slight effort. "If my brain wasn't fading fast, anyway."
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"Something like that," she replies, rising from her seat with slight effort. "If my brain wasn't fading fast, anyway."