It was a damn good thing that FaBi could recall Ralph Lauren had a line of dog coats because it was the only thing that made her even remotely okay with being in public looking like this. Because when she’d tried explaining to the bar owner that some kind of utter fuckery was going on, he’d still demanded she come in and work her magic no matter what she looked like, or else their deal would be done. And as ugly as she felt, cold hard cash was still the way to her small, cold heart. Seeing Mari walk into her bar should have perked her up, but it only settled dark depression even further on her furry shoulders.
“Don’t look at me, I’m hideous,” she whined, resisting the urge to literally throw the shot she’d just filled at the customer next to Mari. “But if you could be so kind as to grab a pen and paper, I need to make a last will and testament for my closet in case this is permanent.”
@mari-zeriah