Pretty Little Liars 6 Killer - Comments on

him.
“I know, I know,” Mike said. “But there’s a place that’s even better.”
He led her to Year of the Rabbit, the Chinese place near Prada. Hanna wrinkled her nose. She could
practically
feel her butt expanding from simply being around the oil, fat, and sauce all Chinese restaurants
seemed to use in their entrees.
Mike registered her look of disgust. “Don’t worry,” he assured her. “I got you covered.”
A bone-thin Asian woman with chopsticks in her bun led them to an intimate booth and poured them
both
cups of hot green tea. There was a gong in the corner and a large jade Buddha leering down at them
from a
high shelf. An elderly Chinese waiter appeared and handed them their menus. To Hanna’s astonishment,
Mike mumbled a few words in Mandarin. He pointed at Hanna, and the waiter nodded and turned away.
Mike sat back, smugly flicking the center of the gong with his thumb and forefinger.
Hanna gawked. “What the hell did you say?”
“I told him you were an underwear model and needed to keep your hot body in top shape, and we’d like
to
see the special healthy low-fat menu,” Mike explained nonchalantly. “They hate giving that menu to
people.
You have to know how to ask for it.”
“You know how to say underwear model in Chinese?” Hanna blurted.
Mike draped his arms over the back of the leather booth. “I picked up a thing or two during that boringass
time I spent in Europe. The term underwear model is the first thing I learn in every language.”
Hanna shook her head, fascinated. “Wow.”
“So you don’t mind that the waiter thinks you’re an underwear model?” Mike asked.
Hanna shrugged. “Not really.” Underwear models were pretty, after all. And rail thin.