With the possible exception of Janice, none of us wanted to go to Janice’s birthday party. I knew what I was letting myself in for: an evening of her bunny-eyed enthusiasm, labouring under the delusion that I’d give a damn. Her company was only marginally more tolerable than that of my odious other (subordinate) colleagues. But rumours about Dino’s opening night had been swirling for months, and I wasn’t about to start turning down free meals.
At least Mark would be there.
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