My freshly blow-dried hair was damp and losing volume, quickly. I was sweating through my date-wear: off-white silk lace camisole, black pants, low heels. ![]() Red flag.Īt that point, I was in Mid-Wilshire, halfway between Venice and downtown in 93-degree heat. Our date would now be “around 5:30.” “I’ll call you in 20 minutes.” Ruh-roh. ![]() ![]() I received a text: He’d been “called” to an unexpected meeting downtown.
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