I’d seen all kinds of customers come through the doors of the convenience store, but none like her. Chanel. A high-maintenance diva with an attitude sharp enough to cut glass and curves that made it hard to focus on anything else. She walked in looking for something simple—a cure for her husband’s hangover—but I knew she wasn’t going to find what she needed on those shelves. What she really needed, I could tell, was something a bit more… hands-on. And I was more than happy to offer my services. After all, sometimes the best cure doesn’t come in a bottle.
