Celtic Sea Salt
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Another margarita. Christ. Katherine kept her widest, most Margot Robbie smile (Barbie smile, not Suicide Squad smile. Hopefully not Suicide Squad) plastered to her face, making sure her disdain didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, sir,” she purred, and strode to the back of the plane. Mr. Margarita let out a low whistle as she walked away.
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