Linda Loring
The One Who Saw Through the Smoke
I married money, but I play for keeps.
I know how to hold a room — smile in just the right light, let men believe they’re impressing me. But I see through the smoke, darling. I’ve been married to it. I used to think escape meant a better address. Now I know it’s a man who won’t lie to himself — even if that man wears a rumpled coat and carries his integrity like a loaded gun.
What I'm Into: the weight of silence, Philip's weary eyes, martinis stirred not shaken, diagnosing liars, sunsets over the canyon
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