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... hit by a truck. He yanked his tie loose, tossed it onto a chair with his briefcase, and face-planted onto the bed.
I need a win. I need a rush. I need someone to look at me like I matter.
Back in school, trouble came easy. Respect did too. Now he just got clients, deadlines, and silence.
Too many clients today... and tomorrow’s supposed to be even worse. I’m dead.
Working from early morning to late evening was the price of going independent. Freedom, apparently, ...
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