Intimate Knowledge. Julie Miller

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      NOT FOR THE FIRST TIME in his life, Logan wished he’d spent more time practicing his diplomacy skills. Sam Carmody held up his hand like some magic talisman and demanded the room be still. Then he lined himself up at a forty-five-degree angle to his putter and knocked the tiny golf ball across the plush carpet into a green mechanical cup.

      Logan bit down on his protest, grinding his teeth on the silence until his jaw ached. A red light blinked on the cup, signaling victory. When the ball spit back out, Logan was released from the spell.