Chapter 117

ANDREA SNATCHED A FAT stack of fliers off one of the tables outside of the convention hall. She should be angry, but all she was right now was-numb. Part of it was the alcohol. She was one step from drunk, which was better than the flat-out-drunk she'd been earlier.

Zain made a circuit of the rest of the lobby in a quarter of the time it took her to pick up the stray fliers.

She'd shown him the flier with her nipple hanging out. Someone had even drawn little rays around it. Like some sort of sun. And she'd shown him. Why?

God, she could never go to another convention so long as she lived.

If it was here-then it was probably already on the Internet. Maybe in color and HD quality. And what went on the web stayed on the web. There'd be no pulling it down. The entire world would have her nips on permanent recall, thanks to search engine optimization.