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After AmericaBut I don't know how good it was." Miguel allowed her to sip from his glass before Miss Jessup-sorry, Trudi-topped it off. The Mormons were all gone now, although he could hear the sounds of cleanup coming through from the kitchen. Marsha had stretched herself out on the couch under a colorful Navajo blanket and turned away from them. The other two whores were still smoking and muttering together, but they had lost interest in Miguel and Trudi. Adam, who was looking a little excluded, glanced about cautiously before reaching out for Trudi's glass. "Perhaps just a sip," he said. "To see what all the fuss is about." She beamed and let him take a mouthful, giggling again at the face he pulled. "Tastes like cordial syrup or something," he said, apparently unimpressed. "Well, officially, it smells like vanilla, orange peel, and cigars and tastes of sweet fruit, smoke, and a balancing acidity with spicy notes in the finish." Both Miguel and Adam stared at her as though she were crazy. Sofia seemed fascinated, however. "I used to be a food writer," she explained. "You wrote recipes?" Miguel asked. "Like cookbooks?" the boy added ...» |
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