Garvey’s office looked like a porn set office–there was little more to it than a desk, a potted plant, a brown pleather couch and white mini blinds.
He did have one picture hanging on the wall, but it was just some innocuous garbage art of the type people with no imagination think they’re supposed to hang up in their offices.
Like youand that stupid diner painting, said Galen’s voice in my mind, because it was exactly what he would have said.
Completely different, I thought back at imaginary Galen, already getting a little agitated by the hypothetical conversation. I love that painting. That’s why I have it there. This guy just bought some crap he thought looked professional. How dare you compare this dude to me?
“What can I do for you gentlemen this afternoon?” asked Garvey, an extremely average-looking middle-aged white man with clothes as drab as his…
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