86. Nightclub Interview
A bottle of well-aged whiskey. Three girls in skimpy outfits. And two men sitting opposite of each other in a private booth, looking down on dancing people from the second floor. One of them looked far too serious, unlike the people who frequented the nightclub. In fact, he was still clutching on his skecher bag, awkward and totally uncomfortable. If it wasn’t for his scoop, then he wouldn’t torture himself like this. Ashton Bogart was oblivious to his lack of comfort. He was too busy gorging down his drinks and mercilessly teasing the girls he just met. “Why don’t you loosen up a little, Winney? Join me for a drink and get close to these girls.” “No, thank you, Mr. Bogart.” If he could, he’d rather meet the scandalous actor in a different place, a more formal setting, at least. It had been two years since he became a contracted journalist for an entertainment tabloid, but he couldn’t get used to this kind of deal. “Oh, come on. You looks like you haven’t lost your virginity yet
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