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Loving the Enemy

By Mia Faye

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Thanks for the fun…Andre. That’s what the note with orange juice and a muffin next to my bed says when I wake up. That’s it. No phone number, no text. I don’t even know his last name or where he lives. I mean—really? We nearly make the king-size bed in our hotel room break down (twice!) and my ONS from last night doesn’t even bother to say goodbye? Gosh, I hope I never see this jerk again. But it seems like the Universe has different plans for me…