Fiorella almost picked up an extra job yesterday. Dressed in her best black and white, she had driven up to Belton to attend the funeral of Friend Paula's father, and on the way out, noticed that the funeral home lady standing near the door was also dressed in black and white.
"Looks like I should be working here," Fio said, indicating her own attire.
The funeral lady's eyes brightened. "Oh, do you need a job? I'm looking for someone--we could go back to the office--"
"I live in Georgetown," Fio said, trying to get out of the situation tactfully.
But the lady's enthusiasm did not abate. "That's okay!"
Nothing to do but beat a quick retreat. In so solemn a setting, it didn't seem appropriate for Fiorella to say she spent all her time writing lurid romance novels.
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