“So are you here looking for Nick Santucci as a possible Mr. Right? ‘Cause, honey, Mr. Right could be fat, bald or married—and very possibly, all three.” Bliss blinked. “It’s scary how much we think alike. And the answer is not just no, but hell no. I think. So, are you not looking for Mr. Right, either?” “There’s no such animal,” Fran scoffed. “But I wouldn’t mind a few rounds with Mr. Wrong,” she said, and surprisingly enough, she almost sounded wistful.”
Book:IOU