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17. Greedy.

From the pounding head, vomit taste in her mouth and dehydrated feeling she figured she must have been drinking heavily last night. Her throat felt like sandpaper. It hurt to move. It was like the flu only self-inflicted, which meant she'd get no sympathy from anyone. At least the curtains were still closed, she was always averse to bright light when she was hungover. Maybe she could sleep it off. She curled under the duvet and closed her eyes. She wanted to be nineteen again when she didn't get hangovers, now with each passing year, they got worse. This must be why so many older folks didn't get drunk anymore, they'd learnt the hard way.

Blair stood up, eyes squinted as she walked to the washroom and look herself in the mirror.

Her lips white and dry, makeup stains all over her eyes, she looked a complete mess.

After an hour, she was ready to go. Dressed in a business suit she looked nothing but a ravishing lady.

The therapy for overcoming the pounding h

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