There Is No Devil Sinners Duet Book 2 By Sophie Lark-pdfread

It all comes back to me in a rush. I shriek with laughter and outrage.
“Don’t talk about that!”
He chuckles, grabbing hold of me and pulling me close, not caring that I’m
not quite dry yet and my damp body spots the front of his shirt. He kisses me,
his mouth pleasantly warm from the coffee.
“You’re going to fucking kill it today,” he says. “I can’t wait to watch.”
As always, Cole is right.
The entire experience passes by in swift flashes, like a snapshot.
We’re hustled through the studio at lightning speed, with barely enough time
for me to goggle at the brightly lit stages and the bustling desks full of
people, before I’m back in hair and makeup, a paper bib tucked into the
neckline of my velvet jumpsuit to protect my clothes from the thick layer of
powder being dusted over my face.
“Don’t worry,” the makeup artist tells me. “It looks like a lot, but under the
floodlights, you won’t see it at all.”
The hosts pass by to introduce themselves. I don’t watch much TV, but I’ve
seen clips of Roger Roberts and Gail Mason, who have been running the
DBS morning show for the better part of a decade. Like most celebrities,
they’re much shorter in person than you’d expect. Roger is barely taller than
me, and Gale is so petite you might mistake her for a fifth grader if you only
saw her from behind, and her helmet of highly-teased hair didn’t give her
away.
Both are wearing even more makeup than I am, their microphones already
clipped in place and a folder of prompts tucked under their arms.
“Where’s your beret?” Roger ribs me in his broadcaster voice.
I wondered if that was something he turned on for the camera, but it sounds
like he always speaks at top volume with careful enunciation.
“She’s not a mime!” Gail laughs. Then, patting me on the arm, “We’ll see
you out there in just a minute!”